#this is what i’m doing so that i don’t throw my own book across the room tbh :)
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i think that billy is the kind of reader who chucks books across the room when he gets mad at them. why is he mad? anyone’s guess! perhaps a character Did A Stupid Thing. perhaps the slow burn romance is too slow for his liking. perhaps he does not like the book and is mad at it for wasting his time.
those closest to him are very used to this. it’s just life with billy. sometimes there are dents in the walls because billy got mad at the little people in his little book. it’s normal. he’s fine. everything is fine.
#lucas freaking out because oh shit what is your brother so mad about#and max just rolls her eyes because she knows the exact thud of a paperback hitting the wall#tells lucas not to worry#billy’s just mad that his favorite characters haven’t kissed yet#billy hargrove#this is what i’m doing so that i don’t throw my own book across the room tbh :)
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— CALM AFTER THE STORM
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
© angelfic 2023.
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin ff#remus lupin fic#marauders x reader#marauders fanfic#remus x reader#remus lupin scenarios#andrew garfield x reader#remus fanfic#remus fanfiction
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take care
pairing: jason todd x gn!reader
summary: when you have a bad day at work, jason knows just the way to help you unwind.
tags: smut (18+), dom!jason todd, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, massages
wc: 2.1k
No matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t stop crying. Ever since you woke up this morning, it feels like life has been throwing you the worst possible things to deal with– people being casually rude to you, your boss expecting unreasonable amounts of work done. After finally falling into bed, you completely lose it, sobbing so hard your body starts shivering.
Jason won’t be back for another couple of hours at least, and usually that’s enough time for you to unwind from work, but today you can’t stomach the thought of doing anything. Instead, you slip into sleep while the tears are still fresh on your face.
There’s a warm pat on your shoulder, and for a second, the bliss of sleep follows you from your nap into reality. But all too soon, you remember the day you’ve had and the tenseness from earlier sinks back into you.
“Hey,” Jason whispers, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “You alright?”
“Yeah– I’m,” You shake your head, stumbling across the half of the blanket that’s made it on the floor as you walk to the bathroom. “I’m just really tired. I’m going to shower, I forgot to earlier.”
You catch Jason’s concerned look from the corner of your eye, but you try not to stress about how you’re worrying him. As soon as the door closes behind you, you grip the bathroom counter and look at your reflection.
You’re so exhausted you look sick, but you don’t want to bother Jason with your own worries right now. When he’s not on patrol, he’s always researching more ways he can stop crime and minimize conflict. Really, he doesn’t have a ton of time of his own to relax, so you really shouldn’t burden him with your feelings.
After a half-hearted shower, you toss on a T-shirt and shorts before walking towards the living room. Jason’s lounging on the couch, and he waves you over to watch a movie– Pride & Prejudice 2005.
“Oh? What’s the occasion?” You say, trying for cheerful.
“Just thought we could use something familiar,” He says, placing a blanket on top of you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
“I’m still going to need you to explain half of what’s going on, I can’t keep up with all the characters.”
“That’s why we’re watching it,” He kisses your cheek. “I just tricked you into listening to me ramble about my favorite book.”
You giggle, and for a second you almost feel light enough to enjoy the moment. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something, though, and when it hits you, you nearly kick the blanket off of you.
“Shit! I didn’t make anything for dinner!”
“Hey, hey,” Jason moves his hand to rub the back of your neck. “It’s okay, I got something going in the oven.”
You settle back into your place on the couch, but you feel terrible. It was your turn to make dinner today since you got off your shift first. You can’t believe you let yourself fall asleep instead! Jason doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he just cuddles into your side further as you both watch the camera pan around Elizabeth Bennett.
Suddenly, it hits you. You know how to make up for worrying him and forgetting about dinner. At first, you subtly try and bring your hand under the blanket, feeling around until you find his thigh. When you make contact, Jason gives you a look, trying to gauge whether or not it was intentional. You give him a cheeky smile as you continue.
Jason settles into the couch, just laying back and allowing you to do what you want, still figuring out why you’re suddenly in the mood. You run your nails against the inside of his thigh, lightly at first before digging in just a little, knowing he likes it a little rough.
You finally palm him through his shorts and he lets out a small gasp. His shoulders seem to fall back and you swear you can see some of the tension Jason always carries around leaving him. Carefully, you wrap your hand around his cock, and you lazily stroke him through the fabric as he exhales through his nose. You’re about to crawl under the blanket to take off his shorts when Jason grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you up to face him.
“Alright, that’s enough of that.”
“Huh? Don’t you want me to,” you gesture to his lap instead of letting your words trip you up. “I mean, I just started now, so I should really–”
“What are you talking about?” Jason shakes his head, his fluffy hair shifts with him.
“Look, I–” You massage your forehead, trying to work through some of your anxiety. “I was going to do something for you, Jason, so just let me–”
Jason slides his hand from your shoulder across your arm until he’s supporting your hand, bringing it in so he can kiss your knuckles.
“You’re always doing stuff for me,” He whispers. “Let me return the favor.”
The speed at which you break eye contact and begin fiddling with the blanket speaks volumes to Jason. You gulp as he lowers your hand, careful not to overstep. You know that if you say the word, the two of you can stop and go back to watching the movie in front of you. But still, no matter how much residual stress keeps bothering you, you want to know what Jason has in mind for you.
“Yes,” you say.
“What?” Jason leans in, not having heard you the first time.
“Yeah–” you try to fight against your own embarrassment at accepting the invitation. “I’d like you to… take care of me.”
For a moment, the two of you sit in silence before Jason bursts into giggles. You have the sense to feel offended, but he quickly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.
“God, lighten up, will you? You sound so serious, it’s not that big a deal.”
Immediately you fail at keeping a straight face, and although you really don’t want to give him the win, you end up letting out a snort.
“Alright, come on,” He taps your back. “Lay on your stomach.”
“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you’re already maneuvering into position, tossing the blanket off the couch in the process.
“Just trust me, okay? Relax, I’ve got you.”
Jason’s hands are warm when they reach your back. You take in a small inhale, not quite sure what you were expecting. He moves his hands softly at first, just stroking the skin of your back and shoulders to get you accustomed to the feeling. As soon as you start getting comfortable, he starts applying the slightest bit of pressure, kneading at your shoulder muscles.
A sound escapes you that you’re not proud of, and though you’re certain Jason is smirking, you refuse to turn around and see it. Sighing into the couch cushions, you close your eyes and let yourself fade into the feeling. Jason moves downward, massaging your back in slow motions, carefully running his knuckle down the small of your back. It’s incredible, more than, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.
“You can press harder, you know.”
He huffs, “See, I was thinking that, but if I hurt you right now I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.”
Jason has a talent for saying things like that, things that make you melt no matter what’s running through your head. To his credit, he tries, kneading out all the knots across your back, but still with lighter pressure than you would’ve given to yourself.
“Is that alright?” He asks. “You want me to keep going?”
You hum, already starting to sink into the feeling. Jason continues, hands roaming all across your back. Your eyes start to close and you can feel yourself slipping into sleep before a hand starts to move down your body, gently feeling up your ass.
“Okay?” Jason says.
“Okay–” and as soon as you respond, he kneads the sore muscles in your upper thighs and ass, and although it causes a part of you to completely melt into the cushions, a part of you feels like you’ve just had a fire lit within you.
“Jason,” you start. “If you keep going, I might… uh–”
“No, you can say it,” he whispers as he leans in, covering your body with his own so you can feel his breath across your cheek. “Tell me what I do to you.”
“Shit–” you bury your head into the couch, but Jason carefully sets hand on your head and helps you make eye contact with him.
“Talk to me,” his voice drops low. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
He places a hand on top of one of yours resting in front of you. You flip your hand over and interlock your fingers with his. A barely audible exhale escapes from Jason as he gives your hand a squeeze.
“I want you to finger me.”
He’s smirking as he kisses your cheek, his lips trailing lower to your jawline before you even have time to register his movements. It’s like a switch has flipped in him, like he’s finally allowing himself to let loose for your sake. Like all he ever wants is to make you feel good if only you’ll allow him to.
The hand not holding yours moves from your ass to your inner thigh, softly rubbing circles only centimeters away from your slit. He catches you closing your eyes again, getting lost in the comfort around you and he gives your upper thigh a pinch.
You give a small shout, and Jason uses the opening to slot two fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t even need to give the command, you’re already sucking him on instinct. Always efficient, Jason unclasps your hands to reach for the lube in the side table drawer while you’re distracted. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop.
“Are you ready, baby?”
“Because I can keep going if you’re not ready–” he pretends, as if he didn’t have a perfect view of your signal.
You nod, but your head is still mostly shoved against the surface of the couch.
“Jason! Fucking go!”
He snickers as lubes his fingers before gently working one in. How typical, even when he’s being nice, he still can’t help but be a tease. His pace is slow but thorough, working himself all the way into your heat before sliding out, only to rush back whenever you seem to get used to the sensation.
Already being relaxed from the massage must be getting to you, because as soon as you stretch to accommodate his second finger, your breathing starts to quicken. He speeds up slightly, moving to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck, nibbling a small mark despite knowing it’s in the perfect spot to be seen.
He finally starts hitting the spot inside of you where he’s needed, and you almost yelp in relief.
“Faster,” you sigh, and gratefully, Jason listens. He quickens his pace, hitting inside of you with accuracy, and leaning on top of you now to better the angle. You can feel the planes of his chest against your back, and the warmth radiating off of him causes your face to heat up.
“Ah–” you start, and Jason is able to get it out before you can.
“You’re close?”
This time when you nod your head, he accepts your answer and continues the same speed and intensity. He uses his other hand to grip you by the shoulder and force your head up so he can hear your gasps. Jason moves his head close to your ear again, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he whispers, “Come for me.”
You groan, naturally wanting to bury your cries into the cushions, but Jason’s grip stops you. The casual show of his strength has you thrusting back towards his fingers, and he dutifully works you through your orgasm until you’re finished.
He flips you so you don’t end up falling asleep with your airflow cut off, and under his observant gaze you finally stop trying to cover yourself up. You flash your teeth, and Jason rubs the curve of your cheek with his thumb before slipping off the couch to get a towel to clean up.
#dc comics#gn reader#smut#dc smut#dc#jason todd x gn!reader#jason todd smut#jason todd x you#jason todd#dom!jason todd#sub reader#red hood#red hood x gn!reader#red hood x reader#red hood smut#jason todd x reader
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Can you forgive what he forgot?
Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo
You two break up, but then he takes a bad hit in a fight and forgets you two broke up. When he wakes up he immediately asks for you.
I loved this request, but for some reason it was a struggle to write. I battled words and phrases, but I got it written down! I must apologize. I hoped to write this for all Slytherin boys, but it was quite a big project so in the end I decided to stick with Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo. I hope it’s good… happy readings my sweet readers!
I. The break up
“How dare you pick a fight with my friends? How many times have I told you to just stay away from them if you don’t like them.” Your boyfriend groans and rolls his eyes. In his book you were being irrational, again. “Maybe you should hang out with better people. Maybe friends that don’t want to break us up.” He says with a stern voice, while getting off of the couch and towering over you. “What?” You yell and run a frustrated hand over your face. “Break us up? In Merlin’s name, have you been drinking? Or are you really this delusional?” He grabs your arm and drags you to his room, so the rest of the common room doesn’t get to enjoy the little show.
“I’m delusional? You’re the one believing everyone wants to be your friend and support your relationship and let’s all have hugs for breakfast and sing happy songs by a bonfire.” You lose it at his empty argument and grab a pillow throwing it at him. “I don’t know why I keep putting up with your shit!” You yell and you can feel tears welling up. He stares at you with a stern look. “Oh don’t worry about it anymore, because this ridiculous relationship is over!” You take a step back at his loud voice and there is a long silence as you both tremble in anger. Just before your boyfriend wants to speak up you swallow and bravely look up to him. “Fine.” His eyes widen as you turn around and open the door with a shaky hand. Say anything! Make her stay! Move! Don’t let her leave! Say something! His mind rages as he feels like all air has been ripped away, but no words come. The door closes behind you and you two are no longer together, just like that. Tears roll down your cheeks as you speed walk to your dorm and by the time you get there, your now ex-boyfriend still stands in the exact same spot: silent, frozen but in just as much pain as you are.
II. The fight
Mattheo
Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Mattheo grits his teeth as he overhears the hufflepuff, why couldn’t people just mind their own business. “How long do you guys think I should wait before I, you know, can ask her out.” His friends chuckle, before responding. “A week.” “The girl needs time, you don’t want to come off too strong.” “Nah, she’s been done with him for a long time, she just didn’t dare break up with the psycho. Really, just ask her.” Cedric nods, taking in all the different opinions. “Yeah, she was probably terrified of him. I bet he treated her like crap. She deserves so much better.” Cedric’s words hurt Mattheo, because part of him feared that you really hated being with him.
Mattheo turns and heads for the opposite direction in an attempt to avoid the confrontation, but after two steps he grits his teeth and balls up his fists. Nope. You’re not asking her out. In one sudden move Mattheo turns around, eyes dead focused on the hufflepuff who was still chatting away with his friends. With one easy spell Mattheo pulls Cedric towards him. “You should be the one terrified of me.” Cedric can barely register Mattheo’s word before a fist hits him hard, making him stumble back and reach for his bleeding nose. Mattheo grabs Mattheo’s color, but before he can throw his second punch he feels himself fly across the hallway.
Theodore
Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Theodore's eyes go dark as they move to find Cedric in the hallway. “Oh, they broke up? Good for her. That prick was underneath her.” Cedric nods at his friend. “I’m thinking of asking her out.” At Cedric’s words Theodore’s eyes go from dark to dead. Normally he would’ve kept his cool longer, but Theo knew you had had a crush on Cedric until third year. “You should. She looked happy this morning.” “Totally, she’s not missing his toxic ass at all.” Theodore clenches his jaw. Sure he had his issues, he was aware of that, but he never manipulated you in any way.
Before Theo’s fully aware of it he feels himself move towards the group of friends. With dead eyes and big steps he radiates anger. His large hand lands on one guy’s shoulder firmly pulling him back so Theo now stands in front of Cedric. “I’m thinking you should start minding your own business and keep your mouth shut about my relationship.” Any other day the hufflepuff would have chosen a peaceful way out but not today. “Your relationship? There is no relationship, you broke her heart.” In a split second, Theodore’s fist meets Cedric’s jaw, making the latter fall. As Cedric scrambles up Theo pushes away the ones trying to keep him at bay and throws another punch to which Cedric quickly reacts by pulling out his wand, sending Theodore crashing into a wall.
Enzo
Lorenzo was frustrated, frustrated with you for walking out and frustrated himself for letting you. Instead of being his usual happy self he was a stormy cloud drifting around Hogwarts scowling at everyone that so much as breathed in his direction. So when an already cranky Enzo hears the laughter of Cedric and his friends he’s eyes turn furious watching the happy lot carelessly banter. However, with his focus on the hufflepuff he overhears your name. “Cedric, did you hear (y/n) is single?” Cedric’s grins. “Yeah, I plan on asking her out sometime soon. I mean I’m not that surprised that it didn’t work out, they just weren’t a good fit.” Suddenly dropping his bag, Lorenzo struts in the directions of the group. “Hey, Diggory! You know what's a good fit?” The Hufflepuff was given zero time to calculate what was coming. “Your nose and my fist!” Enzo’s words are filled with hatred as Enzo’s fist breaks Cedric’s nose, making him stumble several steps back.
Mattheo grins, liking this Enzo way more than the happy guy he usually was, but as he watches Lorenzo ball up his fist again he sees Cedric reach for his wand, before he can warn Enzo, he’s already flying several feet up to then crash harshly onto the stone castle floors. Everyone gasps hearing the loud tut and seeing Enzo’s body laying still.
III. The hospital wing
You had heard from Blaise what had happened and how bad it was, but even though your heart ached to be with him you were his ex and thus had lost every right to be by his side. With your head resting in your hand you picked at your food. Your friends stared at you, searching for the right thing to say. You’re about to snap at them and tell them that staring is impolite, but you catch Draco approaching you and signaling you to get up. Hesitant you walk over to him. “He’s asking for you.” He looks a bit awkward, but you nod calmly and try to act composed. As soon as you walk through the doors of the great hall and you’re out of sight, you speed walk to the hospital wing. Once in front of the door you feel yourself get shaky, fearing an uncomfortable reunion after the fight. Why did he even ask for me? Does he regret breaking up with me?
Mattheo
You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Riddle?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Mattheo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Mattheo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Mattheo whose eyes were already on you.
“Princess.” Mattheo mutters with a groggy voice and a half smile, when you get closer he opens his arms. You are hesitant for a moment, but allow him to embrace you. When he lets go a little you immediately take a step back, making him frown at your distant behavior. With gentle fingers move through his curls so you can study the bruise on the side of his face. Never liking the idea of you seeing him hurt and maybe thinking he’s weak Mattheo reaches for your hand, pulling it towards his chest to rest there. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shake your head at his stupid tough act. “Why did you ask for me, Matt?” His eyebrows knit together and he chuckles. “Please don’t be mad because I got in another stupid fight.” He snakes a hand to rest on your hips, gently squeezing you as a way to get you closer to him. He wants you close to him, like you always were, but you don’t budge and just frown at him.
“Please, princes. I made a bad fall, I don’t need any more attitude from you.” You cross your arms getting angry at how he pretended like everything was fine. “Please, (y/n), I promise no fights for a week.” You huff. A week, seriously, that's not even an achievement. But also not the point, Riddle. “I don’t care that you got your ass kicked. You dumped me, you can’t just expect me to come cuddle you because you’re hurt.” Mattheo looked horrified at your words. He was utterly confused. “Dumped? What are you talking about?” He moves to properly sit up on the bed and grabs your free hand, while keeping a firm grip on the hand on his chest. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to hold onto you tightly and make sure you didn’t leave the room. “Princess, I love you, I would never dump you.” Mattheo whispers and as he leans in to kiss you, you remember what Dumbledore had said. He doesn’t remember that we broke up! His soft lips tenderly lock with yours, finally putting his mind at ease.
Theodore
You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Nott?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Theodore’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Theo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Theodore who’s eyes were already on you.
When he notices how hesitant you are to walk towards him Theo sighs. Ever since he woke up he had this intense need to have you close to him. “(y/n), love. Don’t be mad at me. I don’t remember any of it, but I’m pretty sure Cedric deserved it.” You slowly approach him, studying the bruise near his temple. Blaise had told you how after being slammed into the wall Theodore brutally fell down, face smacking against the cold floor and the image horrified you, but seeing how painful colors covered his face made your heart squeeze in agony. “Why? Why always get into stupid fights?” You murmur and Theo stretches, almost falling out of the bed, so he can grab your hand and pull you closer. “I honestly don’t remember.” He whispers, chuckling softly, and pats on an open spot next to him, urging you to take a seat next to him. “Theo-” You sigh and look down at his hand, holding yours. “What’s wrong?” Theodore asks, fingers gently brushing your jaw as he begs for you to look at him. You snort at his stupid question. “We’re over remember, you said so. So why did you ask for me? Did you expect me to fall back into your arms just because you got into another stupid fight?”
Theo pulls away from you and studies your face. “What are you saying? We’re over? When did I say something like that?” A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he moves the sheets aside, wanting to get out of bed and hug you. He needed to hold you. None of the things were making any sense and he kept feeling this urgent need to hold you. Your mouth drops a little at his words, but as soon as you see him try to get out of bed you stop him. “You need to rest.” You say pushing him gently. “No, I need to hold my girlfriend.” He counters and you’re sure you hear a little panic in his voice, like he really needed to hold you. “You don’t remember?” You whisper under your breath and Theo tries to make out the words you’re saying, but it was too silent so he just stares at you guessing at what’s going on inside your head. “Move aside.” You whisper and Theo complies, laying back down in the bed and relaxing when you join him. You quietly rest your head on his shoulder as your mind struggles to grasp the bizarre situation.
Enzo
You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Berkshire?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Enzo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Lorenzo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Enzo who’s eyes were already on you.
“(y/n)! Thank Salazar, you’re finally here. Please tell them that I’m fine. They want me to stay the night for supervision, but that’s just crazy.” You take a deep breath and walk towards him. “Is that why you asked me to come?” You question dryly, making Enzo frown. “No, I just missed you. I found it weird that you weren’t here by my side when I woke up. I know you’re a busy bee, but I thought at least your boyfriend deserved a little visit and maybe a massage.” Lorenzo wiggles his eyebrows at the last bid and you cross your arms giving him a stern look. “Boyfriend? Did you really think I would come back running into your arms because your dumbass got into a fight.” Enzo pushes himself off of the pillow, clearly not pleased with your words. “Yeah, boyfriend.” He grabs your arm, pulling you against the hospital bed. “What’s gotten into you? Please don’t tell me you’re picking Cedric’s side?”
You huff and narrow your eyes at him. “Gotten into me? You told me you were done with me and-” Enzo shakes his head in confusion, while you talk, before interrupting you. “What? I’m not done with you, you’re my girl, you’ve always been the love of my life, why would you think any different?” Enzo swings his arm around your shoulder pulling you against his chest. As he places a soft kiss on your forehead you realize what Dumbledore tried to tell you. Enzo didn’t remember your break up. He still thinks we’re dating.
IV. Like it never happened
You had tried to tell him about the fight, but his brain just couldn’t remember and neither did he believe that he would actually let you leave. After a while you just gave up on trying to convince him it really happened and gave in to his begging for affection. Cuddled up against him, you both fell asleep in the small hospital bed. The next morning you wake up first and stare at him for several minutes debating on what to do with the situation. He had broken your heart, but now he was back and you judged yourself for it, but in truth you were happy to have him back.
When he woke up he pulled you closer and kissed you. "Good morning." He sang and in that moment you decided that you were suffering from memory loss as well. The break up did not happen.
***
Mattheo
“Can you believe that on my first day back Snape tells me to write a three page essay?” You nod, before joining your boyfriend on his bed and brushing your fingers through his hair. “It’s Snape, I think he was being nice.” You joke and he smiles, eyes admiring your every feature. “Are you here to help me or distract me?” Mattheo smirks as you again comb his hair with your fingers. “Help.” You state before pulling away from him and reaching for some of the books scattered around on his bed. However, now that you are this close to him, Snape’s essay is the last thing on the slytherin’s mind. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you shake your head. “No, Matt, I know what you’re thinking about, but you need to finish your essay first.” You try to pull away, but he just tightens his grip and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “What am I thinking about exactly, princess?” You force your lips into a line, not giving him the satisfaction of a smile.
“I’m not going to entertain your little game, Mattheo.” You resist his charm, but he’s persistent and pulls you into his lap. His lips brush your ear and you can’t see his smirk, but you know it’s there. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his warm breath on your skin. “Tell me, princess, what exactly am I thinking?” Your answer is censored.
Theodore
A very frustrated Theo drops two books onto the library table loud enough to make some people throw him a look, but he just ignores it falling in one of the chairs and sighing. You ruffle his hair in an attempt to calm him. “It’s only three pages.” Theodore lets his head fall to the side as he watches you sit down next to him. “He’s punishing me for missing class, but it’s not like it was my intention to lose consciousness and miss class.” You ignore his complaint and reach for the books. “Let's just get started. The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can do something fun.” Theodore watches you as you focus on the books, feeling drawn to you he leans in. “How about we do something fun first and then I’ll do this stupid essay.” A flustered smile tugs on your lips at his seductive voice. “You might’ve hit your head pretty hard, but you’re still the same boy as before.” You mutter trying to keep your cool and focus on the books in front of you.
“Boy?” Theodore’s voice is playful, but there’s also something twisted about it. You had struck a nerve by belittling him like that. Without warning he gets up, gently wrapping his hand around your arm. You look up at him with a confused look. “Before I start on this essay there’s something more important I need to do.” You get up and follow in his step. “What’s this urgent thing you suddenly need to do?” You whisper still clueless. “You.” Thedore answers sternly before pushing you into a nearby broom closet. “Boy? Really?” He snaps at you before harshly crashing his lips onto yours in the dark confined space.
Enzo
“Will you read my essay and check for mistakes?” Enzo asks while you watch the water of the black lake. You look over at him as he reaches in his bag for the parchment. “Essay?” You question. “Yeah, Snape made me write a three page essay because I missed class yesterday. Like it was my fault, if anything Cedric should write a three page essay.” You snort, knowing full well that Enzo was the one that started the fight. He hands you the essay and you immediately dig in, scanning the words carefully. Your boyfriend can’t help but stare as you underline a few words. You looked drop dead gorgeous in the sunlight, intensly focussed on the paper in front of you. Gods, my girlfriend’s a sexy nerd.
“On second thought.” Enzo whispers in your ear, leaning closer. “Maybe that essay isn’t that important after all.” You bite your lip, feeling your face heat up at Enzo’s closeness. “How about we go for a swim?” Enzo reaches for the paper, but you don’t let go, trying to resist him. However, your boyfriend knows exactly how to get your attention and he places tender kisses under your ear, tracing down your neck before his nose brushes your cheek. “Or we could just go to my room.” His husky whisper and his soft touch turn you into a willing victim for whatever he has planned.
V. Morning memories
Your boyfriend shoots up from a nasty dream. With his heart racing he immediately looks next to him to check if you’re with him. You are. You are peacefully sleeping and he feels his body relax. His hand runs over his face and through his hair as he tries to wrap his head around what he had just dreamed or remembered. Slowly he realizes that it wasn’t just a dream, it was something that had actually happened.
You two had a fight. You left. He felt so empty. Then there was Cedric. Next the fall.
He can’t get his heart rate down and his brain is running wild as well, so he decides to quietly get up, careful to not wake you up. He slips into his sweatpants and leaves the room, sighing once he’s finally away from your sleeping figure. He scans the common room in search of his friends. When doesn’t spot a single one of the usual suspects he frowns and Pansy patiently waits for him to meet her eyes. Finally his eyes land on Pansy. “The rest of your boy band is out.” A smirk on her face as she shamelessly scans his bare chest. She wasn’t going to deny that you had great physical taste in men. “You look distressed.” She adds after a few seconds. The wise thing for him was to turn around, but your boyfriend is in need of a distraction as he feels himself panic, worried about the whole break up situation.
“No stress.” He says, obviously stressed and crosses his arms. “Afraid she’ll figure out.” Pansy tilts her head slowly, eyes dangerous like she’s settling on a prey. He clenches his jaw. How does she know I suddenly remember? “She won’t. We’re back together and all is fine. There’s no need for her to know that I remember.” Pansy smirks. “Would it hurt that bad to admit you made a mistake and want her back?”
Mattheo
“We’re happy. So why waste time on pointless arguments and apologies, she’s obviously already forgiven me.” Mattheo argues, slightly raising his voice, annoyed with Pansy. “I don’t know if she’s forgiven you for the fight, but if I were I would come clean, because if she finds out you remember you’ll have to apologize twice and big time.” Mattheo grits his teeth. “She won’t find out if you don’t tell.” Pansy licks her lips and her eyes wander over Mattheo’s shoulder. “Oh, Matt, don’t you know that things are never that simple.”
It only takes Mattheo a second to realize that Pansy’s looking over his shoulder in the direction of his room. You had woken up and come to search for him. You had heard everything he had said. Slowly his eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head back a little in frustration with himself. Apologize twice and big time. He turns around, but your eyes only meet for a moment as you instantly turn around to head back to his room to get your stuff and get out.
But this time Mattheo wasn’t going to let you go. He follows you and shuts the door behind you, locking you in his room as he rests against the door watching you grather your stuff. “I’m sorry.” He whispers with his head hanging low. “Oh, now you apologize.” You huff and Mattheo groans, pushing himself off of the door and into your direction. “Princess.” He whines and you turn around to face him with teary eyes. “Were you really going to continue lying?” You ask with a shaky voice and Mattheo sighs, reaching for your hands. “Probably.” You want to turn away from him, but he holds on tightly to your hands, squeezing them to ask you to look at him. “I’ll do anything to keep you with me. I don’t want to lose you.” You pull your hands back and try to push him away. “Everything, except being honest and apologizing?” You snap and he bites his tongue, while shutting his eyes for a second. “I let you walk away! I called our relationship ridiculous! How can an apology make up for that?! (y/n), I don’t just want you to forgive me I want you to forget just like I did, because I hate what I said, I hate that I let you walk through this door.”
His loud voice has you shaking a bit, but you stay in place in front of him and he sighs, looking at you with soft eyes. “I don’t- I honestly don’t know how you can put up with my shit? I can’t forgive myself- I really don’t get why you came back to me? So yeah, I wanted to continue pretending like none of it happened. I’m sorry.” You sigh and shake your head, eyes wandering around as you struggle with his stupid explanation. “I want you back. I love you.” Mattheo whispers with a pleading voice as he takes a small step towards you, he wants to reach for your hands but doesn’t dare to, so his fingers just softly brush yours. With an angry huff you turn away from him and his heart breaks, but then he sees you drop your stuff on his bed and turn back around to face him. “I love you too, Mattheo Riddle, and you should know by now that I love you so much that I can forgive the stupid stuff you do.” In an instant Mattheo’s smiling, almost grinning, he closes the distance between you two and his arms snake around you. A gentle hand brushes your hair as he adores your pretty face and drowns in your eyes. “You’re staying?” You nod and he cups your face kissing you intensely.
Theodore
“Yeah, it would, Pansy.” Theodore snaps and Pansy grins looking back to him. A hard noise makes Theodore turn around to face the door of his room. “Oh, Theodore, you screwed up big time.” He turns around looking at Pansy for confirmation. “She heard everything.” Theodore hurries back to his room where you are quickly gathering your uniform so you can leave. As soon as you spot him you throw the first item at hand in his direction, but he gracefully catches it. “Twat!” You yell and Theodore sighs, dropping his head. “Why can’t you just apologize like a normal person, Theo?” Theodore walks over to you and grabs your arm forcing you to look at me. “You had already forgiven me so I thought, done is done.” You frown at his cheap argument. “Really? You wanted to take the easy way out?” Theo huffs at the accusation. “So did you by just coming back to me.” Your mouth drops, was he really turning this on you. “Well, I’m sorry for that, but your bruised dumb ass just wouldn’t believe that we broke up!” You angrily pull your arm back out of Theodore’s grasp, stumbling back a few steps.
When you try to walk past him he takes a step to block you. You try to give him a shove, but it’s to no avail, he won’t budge. Quietly he waits for you to meet his eyes. When you do you notice how soft his eyes are. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m sorry I wanted to continue pretending like it didn’t happen, but I was so afraid that if you knew I remembered you would leave. If my memories were back there was no need for you to babysit me anymore and I can’t watch you leave a second time.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Theodore Nott you can be such an- an- urgh!” You were so annoyed with him you couldn’t find the words. “I’m an urgh?” Theo questions and now you're seriously considering punishing him in the face. When he sees you get angrier he grimaces at his own comment. “I know, I know, I’m a total urgh.” This seems to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just want to forget about the break up again and I want you to forget as well, because I need you, I love you so much that I need you. I plan to grow old with you so yeah I thought pretending like the break up didn’t happen was a good idea.” You cross your arms. “It was a stupid idea.” You say with a stern voice and Theodore nods with sheepish eyes. “I know.”
You sigh and now that you’re both calm, Theo wraps his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Please tell me you can forgive me?” You listen to his heartbeat for a moment, before pulling away. “You’re lucky I love you. This was a total urgh move and I’m still a bit angry, but I forgive you.” Your boyfriend smiles and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling your chin up with a gentle finger. “Thanks for putting up with me.” He whispers before leaning in for a passionate kiss.
Enzo
“Why would I apologize? I got her back didn’t I?” Enzo states, rather proud of himself and Pansy gives him a funny look. “That’s a bit cheap, don’t you think? Breaking up with a girl, breaking her heart and then not even apologizing for it.” Pansy offers Enzo one last chance to decide to do the right thing as you listen, quietly standing near the door of his room. “Pans, she’s never going to figure it out, this way is just easier.” Pansy facepalms. “Enz, you’re about to get your ass dumped.” Pansy sighs and points to the door of his room open. Panic fills Enzo’s face as he realizes you might have heard something and he hurries to his room. When he notices you’re switching from your pajamas into your uniform he closes the door and chuckles awkwardly. “In a hurry?” He asks and you throw him a dark scowl. Okay, she heard. I’m such an idiot. “Thinking back about what I just said, I realize that maybe it wasn’t the best approach.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at an apology, before searching his room for your shirt, which Enzo spots before you and hides behind his back.
“Lorenzo Berkshire! Give me back my shirt!” You say with a loud and stern voice, making Enzo nervous. “Please, sweetheart give me a chance to apologize.” You cross your arms and judge him. “I thought you didn’t want to apologize?” Your voice is dripping with irony and Enzo makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, but on second thought I think I should apologize, big time.” You tilt your head and stare him right in the eyes. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I so so so am.” Enzo pleads as he walks closer to you. “I’m just so happy we’re back together and I just wanted things to stay this way. You don’t get how much I love you. I’m miserable without you and I was afraid that if I would bring up the fight- if you knew I got my memories back then maybe we would be over again and- and- I love you, please don’t leave me.”
You open your hand, urging him to give your shirt back and Enzo drops his shoulders, but with an aching heart he does give it back. “I’m sorry for forcing you to stay.” You take your shirt and look at Lorenzo’s sad eyes. “You’re an idiot, Berkshire.” He nods. “I know. I told the love of my life that our relationship was ridiculous and then I let her leave.” You smile at him as he looks at the floor. “But I can’t help but love you.” At those words Enzo looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you forgiving me?” You chuckle. “I guess so. I love you too much.” You take a step closer to him. “Too much to stay angry at you.” A bright smile forms on Enzo’s lips, while he picks you up and twirls you around. You can’t help but laugh at how silly he is and when he sets you down again he kisses you. “We’re never breaking up again, ever.” He whispers and you nod.
Dear readers, feedback is always welcome. Sending you lots of love.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#papercorgiworldwritings
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truth or dare
pairing: draco malfoy x female reader
word count: 1,228
summary: slytherins throw a party and play truth or dare. draco can't seem to play correctly when it comes to you, blaise becomes a wingman, and to pansy, you're a sleepy nerd.
a/n: ughhh i don't really like this because a party just seems so unrealistic to me lol. every time i see those scenarios it doesn't seem convincing to me at all. i didn't add copious amounts of drinks and partying to this because i truly think despite them being who they are, the most they would do is share a bottle together as a small group and not throw a party because they dislike mostly everyone. also, they're still kids. sorry if that ruins the entire thing and this sucks!!! although, i really liked the idea of draco not being able to bring himself to give you a mean dare like he would to the rest of his friends. enjoy.
Your nose was deep in a book when you heard a faint jingling.
“Mrrph..”
You look behind you and see your cat swatting at the window. Your owl was here.
“Oh, Pluto leave that poor bird alone.” You get up and take the parchment from your owl’s beak.
“Thank you, Buttons.”
Buttons blinks once before flying out swiftly.
Once you unravel the parchment, you recognize the handwriting instantly.
“Small party in the common room tomorrow night. Don’t tell the stupid Gryffindors and just come downstairs for once. P.S. Don’t sleep right after dinner like an old crone and attend. I’m tired of talking to the same buffoons every day.”
You roll your eyes. Of course, he sends a letter over something he could’ve told you in passing.
“Wanker.” You mumbled, tossing the letter on your bed.
Of course, you’ll attend but there’s no reason to act giddy about it. At least on the outside. How you feel on the inside is nobody’s business surely.
The next day, you expect to walk into the common room with a circle of a few people, but you were met with bottles scattered across the floor.
Draco’s platinum hair stands out immediately despite the lights being dimmed.
“So you took my advice and stayed awake until curfew! Must be a new record for the old miss.” Draco chuckles to himself.
“Quite the dramatic invitation.” You look around and see scared first years peering through the steps.
“Is this your idea of a small party?”
Draco shrugged. “It’s just Slytherins. Whoever chooses to come is invited.”
“Obviously they’re going to show. Everybody who’s here loves to kiss up to the famous Draco Malfoy.”
Draco smirked.
“Not everybody” Blaise comes out of nowhere, sipping whatever from his cup.
“Do you not see how bad of an idea this is? The first years are trying to sleep.”
Blaise nods. “I didn’t want it to be this big either… or this loud.”
Draco rolls his eyes, giving a firm slap to Blaise’s shoulder. “Lighten up Zabini. It’s just a little over thirty people. Not my fault that’s twice as many people you know.”
Blaise takes that as his cue to get another drink and shakes his head before breaking away.
“Pansy is whining about playing truth or dare. Are you coming or not?” Draco’s eyes flick to the dorms.
“You threw a party just so we could all go upstairs and ignore it?”
“Somebody had to bring the drinks.” Draco walks past you, ironically slipping a bit on the steps. The younger kids move out of the way, scurrying back to their own rooms, trying to avoid a lecture out of fear.
You reluctantly follow Draco to his dorm room. Pansy and everyone else were already comfortably lounging, laughing about someone’s misfortune if you had to guess. Blaise followed quickly behind you, shutting the door.
“What happened?” He sits down near Pansy, who was obviously tipsy already.
“Truth or dare Zabini..” She giggles.
Blaise sighs. “Truth.”
You settle down on the corner of Draco’s bed, admittedly excited about the outcome of Blaise’s choice.
Draco sits on the floor, not before putting his sweater where he wanted to sit.
“…Boring… But fine.” Pansy, previously laying on her stomach, sits up and ponders a good question before smiling mischievously.
“Who in this room would you most likely snog..?”
Blaise pauses for a brief moment. “Pansy if you wanted to you should’ve just asked me.”
Pansy face-plants into her hands, groaning. Though, you had a feeling she was smiling under there.
After a few turns, it was eventually Draco’s turn.
“Y/L/N. Pick one.”
“Dare.”
Draco smiles at your answer but it soon fades as he thinks of what to say next.
“You should..”
The circle exchanges looks with one another.
“I dare you to…” Draco’s eyes dart around the room.
“Chug your drink…” Draco muttered.
“I.. I never got a drink.” You replied.
Blaise gives Draco a sympathetic look, before handing you his cup. “Here.”
You hesitantly take the cup.
Goyle furrows his eyebrows. “Malfoy, you just made me sneak outside and bang on Gryffindor’s entryway, why is her dare so-“
“Shut up.” He snapped.
You start to sip an already half-drunken cup, grimacing at the taste.
You hold it all in your cheeks, shaking your head in pain.
“You’ve got to swallow it eventually love.” Blaise takes back the cup cautiously.
You could only manage a squeak in response before forcing it down in an excruciating gulp.
“Not a fan?” Pansy laughed.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”
Draco purses his lips to hide his smile, suddenly finding that looking down at his shoes and playing with the laces was worth occupying his time. Despite looking forward to this very scenario all day, he couldn’t bring himself to give you a humiliating dare.
“I don’t know how you all drink that stuff so often.” You smack your lips, still tasting the remnants of whatever drink it was.
“Was that your first drink?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Of course it was. I don’t have access to these… alcohols…” You shrink slightly at how inexperienced and awkward you sounded.
Draco only scoffs. “We’ll, no wonder you couldn’t even chug.”
You glare at him, shoving him lightly. “There wasn’t even enough for me to possibly do that.”
“You looked like a newborn deer trying to drink from its first puddle.” Pansy let out a cackle before covering her mouth.
You close your eyes before rolling back into the bed, grabbing a pillow to shove into your face. It took you a moment to realize you weren’t in your own bed.
Draco’s smell of shampoo seeps through the pillow and into your nose. You flinch slightly but keep the pillow there, wanting to still hide from everyone. Though the mixed smell of fresh laundry and rosewood was an added bonus.
Pansy slaps the foot hanging off Draco’s bed.
“Ow!” You muffle through the pillow.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already!”
Honestly, you were getting tiresome. You rarely stay up and sinking back into a bed didn’t help. You didn’t respond and just closed your eyes.
Blaise looks over at Draco, trying to basically have a telepathic conversation. They both somehow understood each other perfectly.
“Pansy I think we should go to your room and finish where we left off.” Blaise holds his cup with his teeth, one hand pulling her away and the other opening the door.
Draco’s other minions just stared blankly, completely oblivious to what he was implying.
“Get out.” Draco quietly hissed, making them jump and rush out, almost squeezing into Blaise and Pansy between the door frame. All mumble incoherently trying to push each other.
In between this time, you actually did doze off. Draco turns back around to hear your breathing slightly get heavier as if you were on the verge of snoring. He sighs, lifting the pillow off your face and placing it under your head.
“I bet Dumbledore sleeps later than you.” He mumbled.
Draco pulls the blanket from under you and tucks you in. He could’ve almost burst out laughing by how you sleep so easily, but he decides against waking you up after Blaise basically gave him two favors tonight. Draco slumps onto Blaise’s bed, staying up as long as he could, making sure you were able to sleep uninterruptedly throughout the night.
#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco x reader#draco malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#fanfic#hp fandom#malfoy x reader#draco x y/n#slytherin#gryffindor#hufflepuff#hogwarts#ravenclaw#draco fic#draco malfoy x you#pearlfeline
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story in which hyunjin overstimulates y/n? And if you want, could you make y/n sensible and scared? Ty! I love your writing btw!
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been kind of in a slump for writing and then I got the idea for what I should do because I was kinda struggling for a minute. I hope you liked it and I’m so thankful for the request! Thank you so much for your time and patience, I really appreciate it.
WC: 1.25k
Pairing: Hyunjin x (established relationship) afab!reader
Minors don't interact, 18+
Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, some light slapping, good girl, baby, use of that stuff, idk what else tbh this was written at like 1 am
It was a lazy day between you and Hyunjin. Both still in your pajamas, you in silk shorts and one of his t-shirts, and him in his matching yellow and white checkered pajamas. You enjoyed this new mystery novel on his bed while he painted in his studio. It was the comfort of being next to one another that you had no idea what was yet to come.
As you turned to the next page in your book, Hyunjin got up coming towards you. “Wanna have sex?” He asked, lying down next to you on the bed. You barely paid attention to him, too immersed in your book, simply humming.
“Come on” he groaned lifting his head to you, “I need you baby” he huffed, still not eliciting a reaction from you. To try and get any reaction out of you, he began to run his fingers on your thighs.
Ts when he ran his fingers along your thighs, placing wet kisses along your smooth thigh. “Jinnie, please” you whined “I want to finish this chapter, they are about to say who did it”
“Wow, a book is more interesting than fucking your insanely hot boyfriend?”
“Right now, yes!” you giggled, finishing reading the page you were on. Before you could even turn the page, he snatched the book out of your hand. “Don’t you dare fold the corner” you yelled, trying to snatch the book back. He giggled adding the bookmark he made you as a gift to mark the page. He got up and placed the book on his easel, far from your reach.
“Fine” you groaned, falling back onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow. He walked back to the bed, crawling on top of you so his thighs locked yours in place. He placed a kiss on your lips, causing a giggle to leave your lips.
He moved to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the spot that drove you crazy. You could slowly feel yourself getting wetter. “Jinnie, please stop teasing” you whined, rubbing your thighs together to get any sort of stimulation. “I need you”
“Be patient baby, we have all the time in the world”
He kissed your lips once again, trying to savor your taste. He began to move down your body, lifting your (his) shirt slightly to kiss your stomach, slowly moving down to your shorts. Without hesitation, he pulled down your shorts and underwear, throwing them somewhere in your shared room.
“Fuck baby, this pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he ran his fingers across your folds, capturing your wetness and putting his finger in his mouth, licking it off his fingers. “And you taste even better”
You moaned watching him, and before you could even say anything, he dove into your pussy. His plush lips kissed your clit as he slowly inserted one of his long fingers into your hole. You grabbed his hair in his hand, forcing him to eat you like a man starved, and he was happy to.
He was licking every inch of your pussy, slowly inserting another finger to give you the extra stimulation you needed. His fingers were long, not as long as his cock, but longer than your own and he was skilled with them. It took him another minute for you to cum around his fingers, moaning his name as your walls clenched around them.
He began to kiss down your thigh, his plush lips covered in your cum from eating you out. “Jinnie, please, need you” you whined.
“You are a greedy little girl aren’t you, just made you cum with my mouth and fingers, but you are still begging for my cock”
He slapped your thigh lightly, moving so he was on top of you, in between your legs. “Fuck, you are such a slut” he groaned, pulling his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. The tip was already red, pre-cum slowly dripping out of the tip.
“Who’s the slut now?” you giggled, trying to joke around, but it only made Hyunjin to tease you more. Before you could react, he grabbed your face, making you look directly into his eyes. “If you keep acting like this, I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are”
“Sure Hyunjin, you can try and do that” You rolled your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend would never “fuck” you. Whenever the two of you had sex, he always liked to describe it as making love. He was someone who believed that sex was something that should be cherished.
“Don’t test me baby, tonight you are going to be my cocksleeve” Before you could even react, he thrust his cock inside of you, not even giving you a warning. “How can you be such a whore and have such a tight pussy”
You just moaned you had never seen him this way, and you were a bit scared, and your face reflected it. “Aww, baby don’t be scared, you’ll get to cum, don’t worry”
He nibbled on your ear softly, his pillow lips wrapping around your lobe as he continued to thrust into you. He slowly began to lift your legs slightly, signaling you to wrap your legs around his back, allowing him to hit that one spot inside your cunt.
“Such a good girl, moaning for my cock. Is it just that good?”
He continued to thrust into you, not faltering his pace as he continued to abuse that one spot inside of you. All you could do was moan out in response. You were too fucked out, getting fucked too well to even understand the words coming out of his mouth.
He slapped your face slightly, causing you to look up straight into his eyes. “I asked you a question, is my cock that good”
“Yes Jinnie, your cock is the best I’ve ever had” you moaned out loud. He kissed your lips, muttering “good girl” on them, and with him thrusting into that one spot that made you whine, it was all you needed to cum.
“Fuck baby, I can feel your walls clenching around me, but just because you came, doesn’t mean we are done” You whined, feeling overstimulated as he continued to abuse your pussy like there is no tomorrow.
It all felt too much, him continuing to thrust into you even though you had just cum. You thrashed around slightly, not being able to take it. Just as you thought you were going to break, like the world around you was going to go black, he came inside of you, kissing your lips.
You were still out of it as he quickly got up, getting a cloth to clean the cum that was spilling you out of with as well as a glass of water. “Baby, I need you to drink this”
You just nodded, slowly drinking the glass of water that your boyfriend was holding in front of you.
“Sorry if I was too rough, I just overheard you say that you wanted me to fuck you more often, I hope it was okay”
He looked like a hurt puppy so you pulled him close to you, kissing his lips gently. “It was amazing Jinnie, but next time, give me some warning because I was scared shitless”
He just giggled as he wrapped his arms around you as you both fell asleep together. Maybe not knowing the end of the book is worth it.
#ju <3 answers#fucking finally getting back into the groove of writing#stray kids#skz#straykids x reader#skz smut#skz x reader#straykids smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#hyunjin skz#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hwang hyujin imagines#skz fluff#ju <3 writes#ju's <3 anons
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everything has changed
you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.
i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition
18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe
♡‧₊˚
“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.
“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”
steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.
-
life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.
it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.
you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.
and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.
steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.
he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.
“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.
he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.
“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.
“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.
robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.
-
they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.
steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.
she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.
“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.
she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.
robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.
it’s you.
the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.
“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.
“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.
you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.
“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.
you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.
“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.
“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.
“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.
“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.
“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.
“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.
he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.
your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.
plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.
steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.
he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”
he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.
“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.
you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”
steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.
“no!” they chime in unison.
“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.
“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.
“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.
he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.
“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.
you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.
there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.
especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.
he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.
and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.
fuck.
-
steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.
you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.
“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.
you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.
“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.
it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.
“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.
“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.
you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”
he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.
“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.
“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.
“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.
“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”
you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.
“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.
his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.
“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.
“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.
you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.
as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.
“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.
that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.
“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.
“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.
he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.
you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.
“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.
“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.
you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.
the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.
katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.
“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.
katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.
“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?
he can’t decide.
“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.
he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.
“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.
“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.
“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.
they really don’t.
in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.
the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.
everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.
steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.
“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.
“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.
you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.
“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.
sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.
like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.
“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.
“of course,” returning the smile.
he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.
-
it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.
she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?
“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.
you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.
“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.
“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.
you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.
that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.
“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.
you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.
there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.
not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.
“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.
“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.
you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.
-
except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.
you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.
“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.
steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”
“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.
“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.
“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.
he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”
the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.
“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.
“absolutely.”
-
there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.
you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.
maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.
“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.
there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.
steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.
“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.
“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.
“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.
you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.
its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.
“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”
he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.
he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.
studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.
you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.
two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.
you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.
steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.
he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.
he’s not sure it ever will again.
fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.
he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.
katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.
it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.
steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.
she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.
it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.
nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.
“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.
“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”
katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.
“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.
“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?
unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.
“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.
he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.
“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”
steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?
he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.
there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.
at least now.
-
steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.
“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.
“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”
“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”
“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.
“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”
“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”
steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.
“..yeah.”
“well there you go!” she shrieks.
“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.
“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.
“well it felt right.”
the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”
“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”
she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”
he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?
“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.
“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.
he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.
his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.
it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.
-
steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.
no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.
you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.
there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.
they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.
but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.
“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.
“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.
“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.
he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.
steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.
you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.
he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.
your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.
“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.
he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.
his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.
in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.
there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.
“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.
steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.
you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.
-
he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.
a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.
he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.
she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.
steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fanfic
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HBCU CONFESSIONS.
Part Two
The Great Conversation: A Historical Introduction to Philosophy sat on a circular table within the study hall of the dorm building. Erik was dressed down in a red graphic hoodie that read Lost Tribe in black letters with the map of Africa on the back. He paired it with grey joggers and Jordan retro 11’s. He checked his I-watch for the fifth time. It was going on 5:20 pm and Valencia hadn’t shown up yet. Erik wished he’d gotten her number.
Two minutes later, Valencia came rushing over, carrying her books in the crook of her arm and a flustered expression on her face. Erik sat up straighter in his seat and his eyes couldn’t help but scan her body. She was still wearing the same curve-hugging dress she’d worn earlier that day. Her braids were now up in a ponytail with a few hanging in front of her face.
She sat her bag down beside the table and before she could even pull out her own seat, Erik was behind her in a flash. Valencia’s back stiffened and she gasped. Erik gripped the back of the chair and slid it out across the carpet. Valencia couldn’t help but notice how Erik towered over her. He was standing at 6’3. She looked up at him with a faint smile and bashful eyes.
“Thank you, Erik.” She says with a light voice.
“You’re welcome.”
They each took their respective seats. Valencia opened her bag to retrieve her book and her notes. Erik waited patiently, staring at her with a slight, dimpled smirk.
“I’m so sorry, I’m all over the place.”
“No worries, Valencia.”
She finally had everything in order. Valencia exhaled and sat her palms down on the table to calm herself. She giggled and Erik couldn’t help but to laugh himself.
“I’m not always late, you know.” Valencia said to her defense.
“Can’t always expect to be on time every single time.” Erik replied with a smirk.
“I knowww,” Valencia tucked a braid behind her ear, “But you’re a TA. This isn’t a great first impression.”
Erik folded his arms against the table and leaned in. He quirked a brow up at Valencia, staring her down through his gold-rimmed glasses.
“You have a point,” Erik swiped the bottom of his lip with his tongue, “Prove to me that you know your shit, and I won’t hold it against you.”
Valencia turned away because she couldn’t stare him in the eyes.
“You have a deal,” her eyes darted towards his face then down towards her lap.
Erik’s eyes burned with mischief. He loved that she was shy and he wanted to push her limits. See how far Miss Valencia could go.
“Aight, let’s get started.”
Erik opened his textbook.
“Where exactly are you in class?” Erik asked.
“Free will,” Valencia sorted out her notes, “Yes, Free will.”
“Okay…”
Erik combed through the textbook until he found where he needed to be.
“What do Philosophers believe about free will?”
“Uhm—”
“Don’t look at your notes, tell me.”
Valencia was startled by Erik’s command. She cleared her throat and started playing in her hair.
“Uh—well I know that it’s a requirement for agency, rationality, creativity…”
“Okay, that’s good. So, as far as accounts of Free Will, what exactly is the Faculties Model of Will?”
Erik glanced over at Valencia. She was pondering his question.
“…It’s the dominant view of the will for much of medieval and modern philosophy…their possession of certain powers or capacities…”
“Very good. They also possess the capacities for intellection and volition. Another way of saying this is that free agents alone have the faculties of intellect and will.”
Valencia clicked her pin and scribbled down what Erik said like a good pupil. Erik continued to throw questions and topics at her, challenging Valencia. It was the way he did it that helped her retain the information.
“I’m so used to just…reading from my notes over and over.” Valencia said.
“It’s the active recall. Don’t get me wrong, using notecards is okay, but all that time you spend creating fifty cards, you can use this study technique by asking questions about the subject you want to learn after reading the subject, which will help you retrieve information deeper. You want it to go deeper, right?”
Valencia stared at Erik with a dazed look.
“Valencia? Did you hear me?”
“Ye–Yes—”
“I said, deeper, right?”
Valencia chewed on her bottom lip. Erik wanted to chew on it himself…
“I do. I want to remember the information better. The method helps me out a lot.”
Erik smiles at Valencia and she glanced up at the ceiling with a blush. He couldn’t visibly see the heat creeping up her face, but her cheekbones and half-smile was enough to tell. They went on to cover one last topic, Epistemology. After another thirty minutes, their study session was complete.
“You got it, just a little more practice and you’ll be set.” Erik encouraged.
“I hope so. How did you get so good at everything?”
Erik laughed, “Everything?”
Valencia giggled into her hand. She couldn’t stop smiling. It was the most adorable thing Erik had ever seen. Her giggling and smiling was infectious. This is probably the most Erik has ever smiled and laughed in one sitting.
“I mean—what I’m saying is—I saw your achievements and you’re pretty impressive. I aspire to be like that.”
“…Thank you. What are you studying again?”
“Psychology. I want to branch off into Neuropsychology. I plan to go back to school for my PhD.”
“There’s so much you can do in psychology. Believe it or not, I wanted to major in psychology at one point but engineering just stuck to me.”
“Why engineering?”
Erik gave Valencia a lopsided grin that showed off a glint of confidence. She focused on his plump lips, porcelain teeth, and gold slugs.
“There’s so much you can do. You can choose to work on projects that benefit society, help clean the environment, develop prosthetic aids, create clean and efficient transportation systems, find new sources of energy, alleviate the world's hunger problems, and increase the standard of living in underdeveloped countries. The possibilities are endless. And on top of all that, you make a lot of money…”
Valencia couldn’t tell you everything he was saying honestly. This man was too fine. The way his voice sounded to her ears felt like asmr.
“…job security and excellent job prospects—”
“You’re like, very attractive.”
Erik rested his hands in his lap and cocked his head. Valencia jerked her head in the direction of the window and shook her head.
“That came out unexpectedly,” Valencia laughed with embarrassment, “But you are—”
“Thank you.” He drew in a long breath, “Coming from someone as beautiful as you…”
Valencia held her breath. She hung her head and smiled. Internally, she was jumping up and down.
“Thanks,” Valencia fidgeted.
“Anytime, beautiful,” Erik continued to stare at her while his fingers tapped on the table.
“Are you from Houston?” Valencia questioned with a timid voice.
“Nah. I’m from California. That’s where I live currently but I decided to come back here for my doctorate.”
Valencia nodded her head. She crossed her right leg over her left thigh and leaned in with her elbow on the desk. That gesture showed that she was warming up to him.
“I love California. I have an aunt and a few cousins that live there currently. They’re in San Francisco.”
“That’s where I’m from. Oakland. I’m staying in LA right now though. Are you from here?”
“Yes. Born and raised in Houston.” Valencia replied.
Erik stretched his arms above his head.
“Tired?” Valencia asked.
“A little. I worked out really early this morning and I had to deal with that party.”
Valencia giggled, “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. I didn’t see you there.” Erik said.
“Rochelle used to let us get away with a lot…”
Valencia looked over at Erik.
“I know. Which is why she’s no longer your RA…”
Her body shivered slightly. The air was too cold in the building. She thrust her chest out unknowingly and Erik could see the outlines of her erect nipples through her dress. He leaned back in his chair to admire her fully.
“I’m not an uptight motherfucker but I’m not gonna let these students walk all over me. I have a great rep here at TSU and I wanna keep it that way.”
“Oh, no, I totally understand,” Valencia reassured him, “I love that you follow the rules. Rochelle acted as more of a friend and she really didn’t know how to discipline…”
Hm,” Erik licked his lips, “I’m really good with discipline.”
“Oh?” Valencia says. She felt her body tremble.
“I’m very assertive. I tend to…take the lead in situations. It can come off as aggressive…sometimes I have to work on that.”
“Okay…”
Valencia rubbed her arms.
“Cold?”
“A little—”
“Here…”
Erik stood up and proceeded to take off his hoodie. Valencia paused, staring at Erik’s torso. He had on a white T-shirt underneath that clung to his biceps and chest. The muscles put her in a daze. He handed her his hoodie from across the table. Valencia accepted it and pulled it over her. It fit her like a dress. She fixed her braids and smoothed down the wrinkles in the hoodie. It smelled like him. She fought to press her nose into it.
“It looks good on you.”
“You think so?” Valencia wasn’t so sure.
“Yeah. So Valencia, do you mind if I have your number?”
She was not expecting that. Her eyes went wide with surprise.
“Is that okay?” Erik asked with furrowed brows.
“YES!”
She covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t expect to scream it. Erik was cracking up.
“Yes, it’s okay. I’m sorry I don’t know why I yelled like that.” Valencia toyed with one of her braids, “Yes you can.”
She retrieved her phone and unlocked it. Erik did the same. They exchanged numbers and switched back.
“That way, you know how to get in touch with me if you have any questions about philosophy or just…anything in general really.”
“Definitely. Thanks so much, Erik. I really appreciate you.”
“Anytime. And you know you can always knock on my door…”
Oh, yes. He does have a dorm on the same floor as hers. She beamed at him and he smiled back.
“Sure…I can do that.”
They both stood up and gathered their things.
“Well, this is goodbye for now. I have to get ready to meet some friends tonight.”
“I hope I didn’t hold you up,” Erik tucked his textbook inside his bag.
“No, no.”
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Valencia broke eye contact first and turned away to leave. She glanced back at Erik, giving him a final wave goodbye before heading towards the elevators. Erik returned the wave with a smirk, his eyes never leaving Valencia.
—————-
Cindy, Skai, and Brielle were sitting in a booth nursing mixed tequila cocktails. Skai was sitting next to Brielle and Cindy was third-wheeling. She rolled her eyes every time Skai and Brielle would eye-fuck each other. Valencia texted Cindy’s phone that she just parked and is on her way in.
The Poetry Party Live is a college hotspot. They’re known for playing great music, having tasty food, and drinks that sneak up on you. It was definitely a more romantic vibe that Friday evening. So many couples were on dates. Cindy spotted two professors in the booth in front of them. Professor Boyd and Professor Parham.
Valencia came in and she searched the throng of people until she recognized Brielle’s ginger coils. She changed into an orange dress that compliments her mocha skin. Cindy looked up and over her shoulder, waving Valencia over with pleading eyes.
“What took you so long?! I’m dying over here!”
“My bad. I had a tutoring session that ran a little late.”
“They’ve been torturing me,” Cindy cringed, “And Dior isn’t here yet.”
Valencia frowned.
“Who invited Dior?”
Cindy pointed to Skai. Skai sipped her drink with a guilty look.
“I’m sorry! She really wanted to come. You still don’t like her?”
“No, I don’t, Skai. She’s weird.”
Skai rolled her eyes. Brielle laughed.
“Is she drunk already?” Valencia asked.
“You know she is. This is her third one.”
“Brielle!”
“It’s a Friday night and I passed my lab practical!”
“WOOHOO!!
Skai bounced up and down in her seat. Valencia squealed, reaching over to shake her friend excitedly.
“YES BITCH!—oh shit, I’m loud as fuck.”
Andrea looked up from her seat in the booth over and noticed Valencia. They locked eyes and waved to each other. Brielle glanced over her shoulder at Andrea. James turned around with a smirk on his face and a glass in his hand with dark liquor.
“Oooh! Ya’ll on a date?!” Cindy teases.
“Yes, we are,” James replied with a chuckle, “Hope you’re ready for that test on Monday, Cindy.”
Cindy shot James a playful glare that had everyone laughing.
“I’m kidding! Enjoy!”
James turned back to his date and the girls snickered.
A waiter brushed past Valencia and Brielle shouted to get her attention. She halted her footsteps, long ombré braids swaying against her back. She smiled and made her way over to them.
“Need anything else ladies?”
“Our friend just showed up! Can you get her a—”
“Long Island Iced Tea please.”
“Okay! Can I see your ID?”
Valencia opened her small white Telfar bag and plucked her license from her wallet. She showed the waiter and she put a thumbs up.
“Almost your birthday!” The waiter said.
“Yeah! Twenty-two.”
The waiter sauntered off and then a round of applause erupted around them. A full-figured woman with sister locs made her way on stage. She stopped in front of the mic, testing it to make sure it was on. She scanned the crowd with a warm smile before introducing herself. The instrumental to Floetry Say Yes started playing. She was blanketed in spotlights and the rest of the club was shrouded in low ambience.
“This one is called Enticing Night…”
whisper light, a sigh so deep,
In tangled sheets, secrets keep.
Your touch ignites a fevered glow,
As fingertips trace paths below.
On velvet skin, my hands explore,
Each curve, each line, I yearn for
more.
She paused, appreciative hums making her words all the more real.
Breath mingles in the heated air,
A rhythm builds, we're lost in where.
Our pulses race, in sync they beat,
In this embrace, our worlds complete.
“Thank you…”
Snaps filled the room.
“That was good,” Valencia accepted her drink.
“Dior!”
Skai stood up to get her attention.
Valencia looked up at Dior fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t understand what Dior didn’t like about her, maybe it was because of Isaiah? As far as Valencia knew they weren’t together. And she didn’t want him anyway. Dior scooted next to Skai, directly across from Valencia.
“Brie, Cindy, Val…”
“Hello,” Valencia waved.
“Why ya’ll chose this place? Ya’ll don’t wanna shake some ass?”
“Girl, we did that last weekend. It’s okay to switch it up,” Skai argued.
“I feel like I need whatever Brie sippin’ on because she is lit!”
“Peach Tequila!” Brielle shouted.
“Okurrrr. I’ll have that then…who the waiter?”
Cindy pointed at the young girl who was currently clearing off a booth.
“She got a phat ass butt,” Dior bit down on a long acrylic french nail, “She can have all my monies…”
“You’re such a whore for some booty, Dior.” Skai jokes.
Valencia giggled. She swirled her straw around her drink before taking another sip. Cindy rocked back and forth in her seat, singing along to Beyoncé Check Up On It.
“Hi! I’m Chanel…”
“Hi, Chanel, I’m Dior. I wanted to order what she had.”
“Okay, ID?”
Dior flashed her ID at Chanel while giving her a seductive look. Valencia and Cindy share a look before laughing into their drinks.
“you fine. You like girls?”
Skai slapped Dior on her arm. Chanel laughed at Dior.
“I have a man, but thank you.”
It was so cringe.
Chanel walked away and Dior’s eyes were glued to her ass like flies on shit.
“You need to chill. What’s up with you and Brooke?”
“That bitch? Girl…”
Dior and Skai talked about her drama while Valencia excused herself to the restroom. Brielle ended up following her. They entered the bathroom and Valencia let Brielle go first since she was on the verge of pissing herself.
“You never told me who you tutored with!!!!” Brielle yelled.
“My crush,” Valencia smiled.
“For real?! What does he even tutor?”
“A lot of shit but it was for philosophy. He asked for my number.”
Brielle flushed and damn near shoved the door open. She gawked at Valencia before they switched places. Meanwhile, Andrea exited the stall next to theirs and she walked over to the sink to wash her hands.
“So basically that means he’s into you? So the HBCU blog was the right thing to do, huh?”
“Yep! If it wasn’t for the advice the owner of the blog gave me, I wouldn’t have made it this far!”
Andrea slowly dried her hands while hanging onto their every word. Valencia flushed and left the stall. Andrea tossed her paper towel and stood within the mirror to fix her ponytail. Valencia caught her eye in the mirror and smiled.
“How’s everything going this semester, Valencia?”
“It’s going good. A little harder than last semester but I’m close to graduating so that’s good.”
Andrea nodded her head with a bright smile.
“You got this girl. And good luck with your crush…”
Valencia giggled. Andrea left the restroom, holding the door open for a woman to enter.
Back at the table, Andrea scooted into the booth to find another drink. She gave James a look and he chuckled.
“You know I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, James.”
“That’s why you need this drink. Take a damn break.”
Andrea rolled her eyes sassily before grabbing her drink. She toasted with James before taking a sip.
“What took you so long to ask me out?”
Andrea peeked at James from the top of her glass.
“I didn’t want to cross any boundaries. I didn’t wanna look like that guy friend who only wants one thing. That’s not what it is with you.”
“I get it,” Andrea sat her drink down, “I’ve crushed on you hard since undergrad…”
“Same. I always thought you had a thing for Daka though.”
“Seriously?” Andre laughs, “Everyone says that.”
“I see now it’s like a brother and sister thing.” James said.
“I used to sit back and watch you run after all these chicks…Thinking back to that Kappa party, my Delta sistas kept hassling me to tell you how I felt…”
Andrea traced the rim of her glass with her finger. James watched her intently.
“I’m just happy both of us get to sit here and express how we really feel.” James said.
“Me too.”
James cracked a smile before reaching over to grip Andrea’s soft hand. He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb.
Valencia and Brielle walked past their booth and settled into theirs.
“…That D9 party is gonna be lit tomorrow night!”
“I’m tryna go. Took y’all long enough!”
Brielle slipped past Dior and Skai to take her seat. Valencia sat down and pulled out her phone.
“You still talking to Isaiah?”
Valencia looked up at Dior.
“No. I’m over him.”
“Oh wow, what happened?”
“He wasted my time and he’s annoying as hell.”
Dior let out an obnoxious laugh, “YEAH. I could have told you that.”
Valencia looked towards the ceiling.
————
-I know it’s late, you’re probably not up. I just wanted to thank you again for your help 🥰 he asked for my number today! I don’t think it was because he’s interested but it’s a step, right?
Valencia sat alone in her dorm room wearing Erik’s hoodie and some panties with her braids tied down with a satin scarf. She sat at their desk with the television on in the background.
-I’m here ☺️ I’m happy I could help. If he asked for your number, I’d think it’s because he’s interested. It’s a big step actually.
Valencia typed a reply.
-You think so? I mean, he did flirt a little today. I just get so nervous around him.
Erik was in the middle of sprucing up his gold boots. He’s wearing a pair of red briefs with no shirt. It felt weird staying in the dorms when he has his own room at the Omega Psi Phi house. He picked up his phone to see the message that Valencia sent him.
-Don’t be. Try to be more open with him. See where it goes 😏 did you do anything special tonight?
-I went to this poetry club with some friends. Had two drinks and I’m a little tipsy now. It was an okay experience.
-...Is there anything that could have made it even better?
-yes 😭 if I was spending it with Erik. I wonder what he’s doing right now.
-you should text him. See what happens.
Valencia looked over at her phone next to her.
Fuck it. She had a little liquid courage.
Valencia: Hi ☺️
She made her way back to the blog
-I did it! 😭
Erik fell back against his bed. He typed a reply.
Erik: Hello 😌
Valencia: I hope I didn’t wake you.
Erik: I’m up. How was your night?
Valencia: it was alright. You?
Valencia nibbled on her nails anxiously.
Erik: Hazy. Had a little smoke session.
Valencia returned to the blog.
-Is it too late for a dare?
-Definitely not lol. This is fun. What’s the dare?
-I dare you to send a risky text. However you want to.
-How risky though?
-😈
Erik waited to see what she would do. He wanted to see how far she would go. The fact that she would have preferred to spend the evening with him made him wonder what they would have gotten into.
Erik: Did you crash on me?
Valencia:
She couldn’t believe she sent that picture. She tossed her phone on the bed and stood up from the desk. Valencia paced back and forth. Hands covering her face, heart racing, stomach in knots. Did she do the right thing?
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…
That picture was meant for Isaiah and boy was she happy she sent it to Erik instead. She’d heard her phone vibrate minutes ago but she was too scared to see what he said. Valencia walked over to the bed and picked up her phone. She pressed it against her chest, scared out of her mind. Overthinking per usual. Finally, she looked at his text and boy was she glad that she did.
Erik: Shit girl 😍
Erik: 😍😍😍😍
Erik: I can’t stop staring 😩
He didn’t expect that at all. That was the furthest thing from what he expected. He sat up in bed and drooled over that picture. That ass up and that beautiful arch. He wondered what other pictures she was hiding. He loved her body so much. He knew exactly what to do with all of that. Play into his size kink. His dick was brick hard. No pussy in almost a year. The longest he’d ever gone without sex. He could have easily linked with his ex girlfriend on campus but he pictured himself digging Valencia’s guts out whenever the fuck he pleased.
Valencia: 😛
Erik: You tryna tell me something? 👀
Erik: I see you do like it deep…That tutoring session was necessary after all 😍
Valencia was over the moon thrilled at Erik’s reaction to her pic. So much that she was jittery. Back on the blog, Valencia quickly typed.
-I can’t believe I sent him a risky photo. I thought he wouldn’t have liked it but I was wrong 😂
Ping.
Erik went back to the blog messages. Wouldn’t like them? Was she crazy! He loved them! Boy was he happy that he found out about Valencia when he did. He wanted to put her in that position. Arch that pretty back over the edge of his bed, slip her panties to the side, and slide his dick in deep and slow. He wanted her to feel his length. He had a big toy dangling between his legs. Girls with that type of body can take dick. Girls who arch their backs like that need the dick.
-No. if the feeling is mutual, why would you think that?
-IDK. I’m always overthinking shit. 😭
Valencia had to take a second to rethink what she was doing. Sure, she wanted to do unspeakable things with Erik. Nasty things. But she felt she was coming on too strong. Maybe she should dial it back a little…make him …yearn for more? Tease him. He’s older and definitely has more experience. He’s probably used to woman throwing themselves at him. No. Valencia was going to do the opposite. Who said she couldn’t be shy and purposely excite and sexually arouse while withholding gratification?
She left him on read.
Valencia logged out of the blog and shut off the light for bed. She pulled her duvet back and just then, Brielle came in. She had her curly, ginger hair up in a puff. Her pleated skirt was situated higher around her waist, showing some of her ass. Her cropped shirt was dangling from her shoulder and she looked freshly fucked.
Brielle noticed Valencia was still awake and she gave her an enigmatic smile.
“I’m surprised you’re still awake.” Brielle whispered.
“I’m surprised you’re still walking,” Valencia laughs.
————
It was 6 am and Erik stood on the race track and stretched his quadriceps. Flexing his toes in his green Nike running shoes, he took off running. He liked to go for a run around the track before he did any strength training. AirPod Max Pro’s over his ears, shirtless, and black running shorts on, Erik was a mission. In the zone, the heavy bass from the rap song he was listening to fueled him.
Erik made it around the track once before stopping to take a sip of water he’d left at the bleachers. He jogged over to grab a drink and when he looked up he saw his ex girlfriend from undergrad, Jeanette, stretching her hip flexors. She glanced up at Erik and waved to him. Erik returned the gesture. She stood tall and made her way towards him. She’s wearing a track and field outfit, similar to what she wore back then when she ran.
“Stevens. It’s been a while. How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Great. Have you been avoiding me?”
Erik arched a brow.
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…you’ve been back for a minute now and I haven’t had the chance to catch up with you. It feels like you’re dodging me.”
“Nah, Jeanette. I’ve been busy. What happened to that dude? The one that keep running his mouth?”
Jeanette broke out in a fit of laughter. Erik was dead serious. That nigga better be lucky he don’t go to TSU. That nigga better be lucky Erik didn’t find him yet.
“Erik, relax okay?”
Jeanette caressed Erik’s sweaty bicep. Erik eyed her down with a stony expression.
“What do you really want, Jeanette?”
“Whatchu think?”
Erik carefully moved Jeanette’s hand away from his arm. She kissed her teeth at him.
“I haven’t seen you in years. You look good…real good.”
“I know,” Erik smirked cockily.
“Still got that big ass ego…”
Erik glanced down at his I-watch. He needed to finish his run.
“Well, it was nice seeing you, Jeanette. I gotta finish my run…”
“Mhm, am I gonna see you at the D9 party tonight?”
“Of course I’ll be there.”
Erik backed away towards the track. Jeanette placed her hands on her hips, eye-fucking Erik while continuing her stretches.
“Ima put this AKA ass on you tonight, Daka!”
Erik sprinted off with a shake of his head.
Some time later, Valencia had finished swimming laps and doing a bit of water aerobics with weights. Her body was sore and drenched. After taking a shower, she gathered her things and walked out of the gymnasium. On her way back to her dorm, Valencia wasn’t paying attention and she almost collided with someone as she was leaving.
She didn’t have the best workout today because her mind continued to wander. She still hadn’t replied to Erik. The thought made her smile to herself. She shouldered her gym bag and took sips from her water bottle. As she approached her dorms, the man that distracted her was busy texting on his phone while listening to music. His head popped up and he paused in his tracks, staring Valencia down hard.
Valencia spotted Erik opening the door for her and she automatically grew timid. She tucked her chin and gave him a shy wave. Seeing him in person was completely different from texting him last night. The recollection of what she sent him hit her like a freight train. Her heart was practically rattling around in her chest cavity. The closer she got, the more his penetrating stare commanded her.
“After you.”
“Thank you…”
Valencia felt so exposed in her little gym shorts. He was directly behind her. She could smell his natural musk and it sent shivers throughout her body.
“Mm…mm…mm…”
She couldn’t contain her shaky exhale. He was probably picturing himself bending her over right there…
“Sleep well?”
Valencia blinked her eyes up at Erik.
“H–Huh?”
“…sleep? Did you get some rest?”
“Yeah! Sorry…”
“I figured you went to sleep since you left me on read and shit…”
Erik pressed the button for them to get on the elevator. Valencia avoided his gaze, her eyes looking around her.
“Valencia?”
She snapped her head in his direction. He was already on the elevator. She could tell he was fighting a laugh. Embarrassed, she walked in.
“You’re hella distracted…I’m the one that should be acting like that after what you sent me last night, girl...”
Valencia took in a breath. He did things to her body she couldn’t control. The trembling, the uneven breathing, the wetness that drenched her panties. She was in lust for this man and she needed him to fuck her. She wouldn’t say that to his face though.
“I…I have a lot of work to catch up on…and I’m really hungry…”
They left the elevator and Erik walked slowly so Valencia could catch up with him. She spotted Skai and Cindy sitting in the lounge studying and when they noticed her they gave her a weird look. Erik looked down at Valencia, biting his bottom lip openly so she knew that he was feeling her. Valencia slowed down her footsteps in front of her dorm room door. Her eyes discreetly roamed Erik’s body. His russet skin glistened with sweat and his muscles looked defined and sculpted. His locs were messy and resting against his forehead. He looked so fucking edible.
“This is me,” Valencia pointed to her door, giving Erik a quick glance with a smile, “I guess I’ll see you later…”
“You guess?” Erik cocked his head back.
“I—I didn’t mean it like that.” She spoke with a barely audible tone.
Erik startled her by reaching out to caress her arm. His hand stroked from the back of her upper arm, past her elbow, and down her forearm until he was holding her hand in his firm grip.
“You know you have a lot of explaining to do, girl.” Erik whispered.
He smelled so fucking amazing. His natural scent crowded her. She wanted to press her nose against whatever area that had exposed flesh. Lick his skin to see what his sweat tasted like—
“Do you know about the D9 party tonight?”
Valencia twisted her lips to fight a smile.
“I do. Are you asking me to go?”
Her eyes dropped down to her hand in his. She swayed from side to side.
“I am. I wanna see you there.” Erik said.
Valencia’s cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. She tried to hide her face so Erik took it upon himself to lift her chin.
“You gonna be there, Valencia. I want to see you there.”
She blinked at Erik slowly. His eyes dropped down to her juicy lips. He wanted to taste them…
“I’ll be there….”
“You better.”
Erik stroked her chin with his thumb. It sent shockwaves throughout her body. Straight to her pussy. It was such a small gesture that held so much dominance. Erik finally let go and backed away, his eyes dancing up and down her frame while he drew his plump bottom lip into his mouth. His eyes were low and almost sleepy-like and it made him look dreamy. Valencia giggled and looked away, unable to hold his gaze.
“We should get lunch later.” Erik said raising his brows.
“I’d like that.” Valencia replied.
“Aight, I’ll see you then, beautiful.”
He turned and strolled down the hall with a gait.
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𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: baldur's gate 3 | astarion acunín x gn!reader
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: When Astarion lets it slip that he hasn't seen his own face since he became a vampire spawn, you take it upon yourself to be his eyes. And, as you assure him, he has a very good face.
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: artist!reader (sorta) | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know!
𝚆/𝙲: 2k — 9 min read time
.·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: i'm so sure someone's already done this but ever since this scene triggered for me in like act 1 i been THINKING bout it. i combined some of the dialogue results for this one. he also never is not pretty like ??? r u joking. AND reqs are open!
🤍 mills
✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧
While you sit atop your bedroll trying to relax at camp, your eyes drift over toward Astarion’s tent. To your surprise, you catch beams of moonlight reflecting off of a shining surface. Intrigued, you get up from your seat and make your way over to him. As you approach, you slow your steps and carefully peer around his figure to see a beautiful, ornate silver mirror. Of course, there is no reflection within it aside from your own face.
“Looking for something?” the vampire spawn purrs.
Your eyebrows raise, and you tilt your head inquisitively as a smirk curves across your lips.
“How did you know I was here?” you ask.
“The only benefit to a mirror when you have my…condition. It doesn’t quite make up for the lack of reflection, mind you.”
You hum to yourself and nod. He turns to face you, dropping the mirror to his side. His eyebrows are knitted together, that signature anger decorating his handsome feline features.
“Do you miss it?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest. “Your own face?”
“Preening the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He scoffs. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face - not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”
“What color were they before?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have the chance to stop it.
“I don’t know…” he drops his gaze and his eyebrows furrow in deep thought. “I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost.”
He throws the mirror onto the dirt beside him. It lands with a dulled clink as Astarion’s face floods with fury. You breathe a sigh and gulp. Then, you cautiously step forward, craning your neck and narrowing your eyes to focus on him. He angles his head, quirking an eyebrow.
“What?” he asks quietly.
“Just looking.”
“And what is it that you see, exactly, when you look at me?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you formulate an answer. Suddenly, you can see all of him at once. Your artist’s soul drinks in each and every detail. You study his almond-shaped eyes, the delicate and noble curve of his nose, the grooves in his lips, his pointed ears and angular jawline. Your heartbeat pounds into your ears, and your chest tightens. You admire the way each part of him comes together to form that face, that cruel beauty. You can practically see the penciled lines on a scrap of parchment, the colors you would mix to get his skin tone right, the way you would paint him without the bite scars on his neck. The finished piece flashes before you. Your fingers twitch with anticipation.
“I see you,” you reply. “The creases when you laugh. The way your hair curls around your ears. That dangerous smile.”
His gaze softens, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He straightens, heaving a deep breath, and places his hands on his hips.
“Very good. Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”
You smile and chuckle.
“You have nothing to worry about, Astarion. It’s a very good face.”
A full smirk breaks across his features, tugging one corner of his mouth upward. He eyes you mischievously, his gaze flicking up and down your figure, before he turns to pick up a book. You take that as your cue to leave and make your way back to your own tent
Though you try to settle down by reading a book you nicked off a drow corpse by the Ebonlake Grotto - The Great Furnace of Grymforge sounds incredibly important - you can’t keep yourself from looking back at your vampire companion. His words continue to echo in your head, over and over again.
I’ve never even seen this face, not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.
The painting of him that you had imagined earlier flickers through your mind once again. You raise your head and peer around to see that most of your other companions have gone to bed for the night. You figure you should probably get some sleep too...
Despite your exhaustion, you find yourself reaching for a scroll of unused parchment.
You secure the paper to your wooden easel and open the paint set you tote around in your pack. After making a quick trip to the river to fill a bowl with water, you fish out the brushes and pencils you’ve collected. Once prepped, you take a deep breath and begin to sketch the preliminary lines. As you fill in the finer details, you take care to be as accurate as possible. Every so often, you sneak a peek at Astarion to ensure you’re doing the elf justice and to check on small details, though you are able to do most from memory. You could never quite explain it, but his image appears so clearly in your mind, every detail almost perfectly preserved like a painting in and of itself. He’s settled into the ideal expression as he reads, his features ghosted with deep anger but balanced with a controlled calm.
By the time you’ve finished the sketch, the rest of your party has fallen asleep, Astarion included. He’d walked toward his bedroll encircling the bonfire an hour ago. And, though he tossed you an inquisitive glance, he said nothing. Within a short time, he’d fallen asleep alongside the others.
You take to the paints beside you. In an artist’s flurry, you work quickly but carefully, taking full advantage of every shred of inspiration that you have at the moment. You do your best to match his colors under the soft candle and moonlight. You fully intend to revisit the piece during the day with more favorable lighting.
A few hours later, you’ve all but finished. Until you realize that you’ve left something extremely important out. Though you have sketched in his dark, piercing eyes, you’ve neglected to color them. Your shoulders fall as your conversation from earlier replays in your mind.
Your eyes lock on the blood red swatch of paint immediately, but you wonder…
You look back at the canvas, recalling the image of his face once again. Closing your eyes, you allow your mind to fill in the gaps. You envision Astarion in Baldur’s Gate, with a carefree smile and fine clothes, as the sun shines graciously upon his face. A smile spreads across your lips, and you instinctively reach for a color from your paint set. Satisfied, you open your eyes and get to work.
You haven’t even realized that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake from a kick to your boot. You jerk, your head and neck immediately pounding.
“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty,” Astarion’s familiar voice croons into your ear.
As you shift to sit up, your eyes blink to adjust to the harsh sunlight of the dawn as it rises over the landscape. When you attempt to straighten your neck, a pulsing pain ricochets through you. You grunt and reach a hand up to massage the sore muscles. You’d fallen asleep sitting up in a chair, your head obviously flopped to one side for several hours. Your eyes rake over the camp, observing the fact that everyone else is still resting. By the time you’ve gained enough consciousness to process what’s happening, you realize that Astarion is staring directly at your piece. You gasp and lunge, twisting your body to cover it.
“Oh, that-that’s not...finished. I was planning to make some last minute changes to it this morning, em…” you stutter as your heart pulses at a million miles a minute. You’re suddenly extremely embarrassed by yourself and wondering if you might have taken things a step too far by spending your entire night painting your…friend. Astarion just raises his eyebrows.
“Oh, it looked awfully finished to me, darling.”
He gestures for you to move out of the way, but all you can muster is a shake of your head. He frowns before grabbing onto your bicep and pulling you to the side. Though your brain says to fight him, your heart wants, with everything in you, for him to see it. For him to like it. You drop your gaze in shame, picking at your fingernails. He stands on his back foot. His eyes roam over the piece, his face expressionless. You clear your throat.
“You mentioned last night that you hadn’t seen your face since…well, I thought maybe you’d like to. I know it’s probably not a very good likeness, so please don’t take offense to it. And I wasn’t quite sure what color to make your eyes, so I-”
“Yes,” he muses quietly, in a tone so silent it’s almost imperceptible. He reaches toward the painting, his fingers hovering over the eyes. His shoulders droop. “They were green.”
You inhale sharply. You’d painted them green.
“I’d forgotten until now. Until you…” He tears his gaze away from the painting to take you in. Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel frozen under his unwavering eyes. “Until you helped me to see myself.”
He maintains your stare for a few more moments. You couldn’t miss the way his eyes soften and turn glassy. Nor the almost pink tint that fades into his cheeks. Astarion gulps and considers the painting once more.
“Is this how you see me? Genuinely?”
You inspect the painting yourself now. Last night you had felt so critical of it, fretting over the colors not being exactly right or the lines not matching up as you want them to. You often feel that way about your art. But now, in the daylight, you find yourself falling a little bit in love with this piece.
You drop to your knees alongside your companion, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. He stiffens at your touch but as you scan his features, you feel him ease and…is he leaning into your palm? Your thumb absentmindedly brushes across his cheekbone. He avoids your eyes. With a shaky breath, you look to the painting and grin.
Your inspiration served you well. It’s a spitting image as far as you can tell. You’ve managed to include the wisps of curl that brush against his pointed ears, the faint lines alongside his nose and mouth. Most of all, you’ve captured the sparkle of joy, the light so dim it’s almost vanished, that gleams in his eyes. Even after all that he’s been through.
“Yes. Because this is how you are. To me.”
His head whips around to you. His hands find yours, sandwiching your fingers between his own. Despite his bloodless complexion, his touch is warm and gentle. You step closer to him without even really intending to. He allows a rare smile, a genuine one, to turn up his lips. Your heart skips a beat as he bends down and brings his lips to your cheek. He presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as you drink in the sensation of his lips on you so sweetly. He pulls back, sliding his cheek onto yours.
“Thank you," he whispers into your ear.
As he draws back, a yawn from one of your companions shakes you back to reality. Astarion’s smile remains. His eyes sparkle just in the way you’ve painted them. He squeezes your fingers before releasing them. You clear your throat, willing your sweating palms to dry themselves. You carefully lift the painting and hand it to your vampire spawn companion.
“Here. Keep it. I was planning on giving it to you anyway,” you say.
“Well, since I was the most inspired muse for your delicious little painting, I will,” he teases, flashing a sinister smirk which shows off his sharpened fangs. You chuckle breathlessly and nod.
He begins to walk away but pauses and glances at you over his shoulder.
“Oh and, next time, if you need a model, just ask, darling. I’d be more than happy to pose for you any time. In any position.”
Astarion snickers viciously as you feel your eyes go wide and mouth pop open in surprise. As he struts away, you rub your palms on your heated cheeks. He’s such a tease and yet…perhaps you’d take him up on his offer.
tags: @anukulee
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion acunin fic#bg3 fic#quill and quiver
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Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)
Chapter 2
Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?
This chapter: Michael starts tutoring you but things are off to a rocky start.
Word count: +1900
Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.
Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.
Read Chapter 1 Here
***
All my fics are also on AO3
***
After almost two hours of Michael’s tutoring you were beginning to contemplate throwing in the towel and just letting Ben release that video. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?
Michael had been cocky as soon as you had sat down in front of him in the library that evening. Right now he was bordering on rude and very obviously growing more impatient with you by the minute. And the faster he talked the less you listened, leaving you both frustrated.
You had a splitting headache and all the numbers and calculations were just dancing across the page now, mocking you. None of it made any sense, no matter how many different ways Michael tried to explain it all to you.
You were good with history, languages, art or psychology. Numbers were hell on earth.
“Are you even listening?” Michael sighed impatiently, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind his head.
“Yes,” you nodded, followed by a heavy sigh,”No, ugh..I’m sorry, I just…I lost my focus about an hour ago.”
“An hour ago? You didn’t even have it to begin with,” Michael called you out.
“I just don’t know how this is so easy for you, like you don’t even have to think about it at all.”
“That’s because I don’t,” he answered smugly, making you roll your eyes.”Go on. Ask me a sum.”
You sighed some more but indulged him anyway,”33 times 20.”
He gave you a look,”Don’t insult me, a real sum.”
“333 times 444.”
“147.852,” he answered without even blinking. You had no way of knowing if his answer was even correct but you didn’t doubt it for a second.
“How did you do that so fucking fast?”
“I don’t know, I can just do it, in my head, I don’t have to think about it.”
“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes again.
“They’re gonna get stuck in your head if you keep doing that, you know,” he teased, making you squint your eyes at him.
He shook his head with a little amused grin,“Ask me another one then.”
“It’s fine, you made your point, you’re a genius.”
“Ask me another one, just to be sure,” he insisted.
“Michael, it’s fine, I get it.”
‘Ask me another fucking sum!” he raised his voice, making the few other people in the library look up at you both with annoyed looks on his face. You wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
“Alright, fucking hell…1245 times 987.”
“1.228.815,” he answered, giving you another satisfied little smile.
You just stared at him without saying anything.
“My brain works different from yours,” he then explained.
“Yeah, no shit.”
You were beginning to see why Ben was so threatened by him, Michael was an actual mathematical genius, Ben didn’t stand a chance at that internship. That thought suddenly filled you with immense joy. And then fear, because if Ben didn’t stand a chance then what were you even doing here?
Michael watched as your face fell.
“Do you want to take a break?” he suggested.
You nodded,”Yeah, a permanent one, I’m never going to get this.” You dropped your head onto the table and let out a desperate little whine.
Michael just shook his head,”So you’re a quitter, I would say I’m shocked but my mum told me never to tell a lie.”
You lifted your head to give him an angry glare but he just ignored you and closed his books, not giving you time to object before he was up and out of his seat.
“When you’re serious about wanting to learn, you know where to find me,” he said,”Until then…stop wasting my time.”
“Michael,” you sighed but he was already walking away from you, and with it your last chance to stop Ben.
You couldn’t let this happen, if you let him go now your fate was sealed.
“Michael, wait!” you rushed after him without thinking, finding him halfway in one of the book shelves.
You grabbed at his arm to stop him, taking him by surprise.
He froze, eyes staring wildly at the spot where your hand was touching his arm. But he didn’t pull back or try to stop you. Instead he almost seemed to lean into your space a little, accepting your touch, his mouth opened in a surprised little sigh when your fingers gently closed around his elbow.
Of course the nerd was touch starved, it was almost too predictable. And was that a blush creeping up on his pale cheeks?
Ben had been right, Michael clearly wasn’t used to being touched, especially not by a woman. But he didn’t seem to dislike it, at all.
Maybe this mission wasn’t so impossible after all.
It was a desperate move, you realized that, but desperate is what you were.
“Please, wait,” you begged again, placing your other hand on his wrist while you gave him your best sad eyes and pouty lips,”You can’t give up on me, Michael. Please, you’re the only one who can help me, I need you.”
You watched him swallow hard at those last words, his eyes flickering from yours down to your lips and back up again.
He was staring now, shamelessly, not even trying to hide it. You used his obvious interest to lean in closer, so close he could almost feel your breath against his cheek and when you slowly and very deliberately licked your lips you could hear him bite back a quiet whimper.
You took another step forward and carefully pressed your body up against his. That’s when you felt it, undeniably, he was hard. You had barely touched him and yet he was rock hard in his stupid cargo pants.
You had him right where you wanted him and you could have sworn he was about to close that final distance between you two and pull you in for a kiss.
But then he leaned back and his thin lips curled up into a smug, annoyed grin.
“What are you playing at?” he asked.
“What do you mean? I’m not playing….”
“Stop lying to me, you stupid girl,” he growled and took a few steps back from you,”You say you want a tutor but you don’t give a shit about what I’m trying to teach you and now you want to…what….seduce me? How daft do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re daft at all!”
“I know this isn’t about math and it sure as hell isn’t about you wanting to get into my pants, girls like you don’t want nerds like me.”
“Girls like me?” you asked, staring at him with anger in your eyes,”Oh, you mean stupid girls like me? Listen, you little shit…”
“I meant pretty girls like you,” he interrupted you, shutting you up instantly.
He took a step closer again, towering over you and forcing you to lean against the book shelves behind you.
“What is it you want from me then?” he mused, as if he was asking the question more to himself and not you,”You’ve never paid any attention to me before this week…not until…I saw you scheming with Ben in the library a few days ago.”
Your eyes widened at his statement and it was enough for Michael to know he was onto something.
“I fucking knew it,” he shook his head and laughed,”What does that twat want from me this time, hmm?”
“Nothing,” you answered, too quickly.
“You’re a bad liar, girl.”
His stare was making you nervous, you wanted to blurt out everything to him and at the same time run away and never speak another word again. But there was no place to run from Ben and his ugly threats. Michael was your only ticket out of that bad spot.
He stepped back from you with a sigh,“Fine. Whatever. Tell your rich little friend that whatever you and him want from me he’s not going to get it, under any circumstances. Can you remember that or should I write it down for you?”
You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Michael’s harsh tone combined with the hopelessness of your situation was suddenly too much and you burst out into tears.
To your surprise Michael’s whole demeanor changed instantly and he rubbed his hand over his face with a heavy sigh.
You started crying,“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this shit, I’m so sorry, Michael.”
For a moment he just looked at you, your tears and desperation too real for him to ignore.
Then he leaned back against the book shelves next to you, not saying a word. You looked up at him through your teary lashes and it was the first time you could see real compassion in his blue eyes. ”What does he have on you?” he asked softly.
”We used to date, he has some…private material he’s threatening to release.”
“Fucking prick,” Michael spat out.
“Yeah, he really is and I’m an idiot for ever being with him,” you wiped at your tears and looked surprised when Michael reached into his pocket and handed you a handkerchief. It looked like the ones your grandma used to have and you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.
”Thanks,” you sobbed and used it to wipe your cheeks dry.
“So…what did he want you to do in return then?”
”He wants that internship at Charter Inc.”
Michael nodded knowingly,”Yeah, that one is mine.”
“I know,” you smiled weakly,”That’s why he…he wanted me to distract you.”
Michael scoffed,”Jesus fuck, what an idiot. There’s nothing on this earth he can do to keep me from getting that job.”
You nodded,”I know.”
And with that realization came more tears. You used Michael’s handkerchief to keep them at bay.
“Do you think he’d actually do it?” he asked,”Are they just empty threats?”
“I honestly don’t know what he’s capable of and I don’t want to find out.”
You both stayed quiet for a while. Michael didn’t make any attempts to comfort you or touch you, but he didn’t move from his spot right next to you either.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, Michael, this isn’t your problem, or your fight.”
He nodded,”Yeah, you’re right, it isn’t.”
You could feel your stomach drop in defeat.
“But,” he then added,”I’d really fucking hate to see a rich kid win in life.”
You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears.”Got any ideas?”
He thought about that for a little while and then he nodded,”We could…make him believe his plan is working? I mean, for now, until we can come up with something better.”
“How?”
“He won’t do anything as long as he believes you’re on board, yeah?”
“I guess not.”
“So we pretend that you’re…distracting me.”
You laughed bitterly at his choice of words.”He wants me to fuck you, that’s what he means by distracting you. You realize that, right?” you then blurted out and Michael snorted out loud but he regained his composure quickly.
“Then…I guess we pretend that you’re fucking me,” he said calmly, letting his eyes meet yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the good kind.
“Alright,” you nodded.
“Alright,” Michael repeated, keeping his eyes on you for a few moments too long before he eventually looked away and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling shyly,”When do we start then?”
#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x female reader#ewan mitchell fanfic#michael gavey smut
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hi i know you just did a sturniolo little sister fic but could you do one where she gets into a fight at school because someone was talking shit to her about her looks or something and she won the fight or whatever but she was in a lot of trouble and matt picked her up from school then like something sweet with everybody and maybe a little bit more with matt cause matt is like my comfort person ?
Fight
Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets
Warnings: blood, fighting, etc.
SLS’s POV
All I remember thinking was I’m about to beat this bitch up.
So that’s what I did.
Usually a wouldn’t let a dumb bitch calling me names bother me. But when she compared me to my famous triplet brothers, then called me names right after?
That set me off.
“I can tell the rest of the family got the good looking genes. Look at her then look at her brothers! No wonder she’s only in three of their YouTube videos!” A girl in the hallway said to a bunch of giggling girls.
I throw my books to the floor and walk over to her, breathing heavy. Most of her friends scurry away, shrieking dramatically, but two stay.
I get right up close to her face, pushing her into the lockers. At this point we had an audience.
“What the fuck is wrong you? You-“ I start to say, but then I’m being smacked with a 610 page biology text book, the corner hitting my eye, while the rest practically breaks my nose.
One of the girls stupid friends tried to help her. I stumbled back, turning away from the girl against the locker to see you hit me. The girl, who was now behind me, frantically ran into a nearby classroom.
“Oh you really shouldn’t have fucking done that.” I say, immediately pouncing on her and taking her to the floor.
She was helpless, trying to slap at my bloody and bruised face. I grabbed her hand and put them behind her back, pushing her head into the floor.
I was about to tell her who the fuck she was messing with, when all of the sudden, arms were around my waist pulling me of the girl.
I look up to see Mr. Howard, my Chemistry teacher, who also happens to be the varsity football coach.
“Get to the office Sturniolo! No detors!” He barked at me, letting me go. I kicked my books while walking down the hallway to the office, yelling,
“She’s the one who fucking started it!” And I stick my middle finger up, not even bothering to look back at the girl, crying on the floor, worried about her skirt that I got my blood on.
-
“SLS/N, I know you’re a good kid. You’re on the all A’s honor roll, you’ve never gotten detention, and you’ve never been sent here before this. What happened that got you so upset?” My principal asked me as I sat across from him.
“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled, chewing my nails because I knew how much trouble I was in.
“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you for three days and call your brother to come pick you up.” He said, giving me a sad but knowing look.
“Fine, but I’d call mat if I was you. He’s the only one who can drive.” I say, picking up my stuff and walking straight out of his office to wait for my brother.
-
Matt walked in, looking upset and down cast, but when he saw my bloody nose and black eye, his face contorted into a look of complete shock. I didn’t stand up.
He signed me out and quietly thanked the lady at the front desk. He then walked over and needed in front of me. I averted his eyes as I felt the tears stabbing at my own. He must have noticed because he said,
“Hey it’s okay kiddo, we’ll talk later.” He the stood, slung my back pack over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we made our way to the car.
-
The car ride was pretty quiet, except for my occasional sniffles as the pain from my nose and eye began to set in. I didn’t realize where we were until Matt pulled into the Mcdonalds parking lot and put the car in park.
He got out of the car and rationed me to follow him, as he walked towards the front door. As he held the door open for me, I pulled my hood up, to cover my bloody face.
Matt went up and ordered while I got us a booth all the way in the back, and pulled out my phone.
12 Snapchat notifications and 16 text. All about the fight. I put my phone down and tried to stop the tears threatening to spill, when Matt came back with two chocolate milkshakes and two large fries.
He sat across from me and we began eating, but I still averted eye contact.
“Look at me SLS/N.”
I looked up and he gave me a sad smile.
“you know we have to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with.”
I sighed and began telling him the story. About how the girls at school would always compare me to my brothers and call me ugly names.
“It just gets really hard sometimes when you feel like you have strict expectations to live up to, ya know?” I say, some of my tear slipping to make streaks of blood down my face.
“hey I completely understand. I know what it’s like to be compared to Nick and Chris. It’s the only way people could ever tell us apart!” He says earning a small chuckle from me.
“you just need to learn not to get to fired up about it, and just know that people will be mean, but they don’t know the real you, and how perfect you are. No one compares to you because everyone’s unique. And I am so proud to have you as a sister, and so are Nick and Chris.”
I nod, knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without sobbing.
“And speaking of Nick and Chris, I haven’t told them yet. But If you want, I can talk to them instead of you having to explain everything again. Sound like a plan?” He says.
I nod again, thankful that I wouldn’t have to go through this again.
-
We pulled into the drive way, and before I opened the car door to go inside, I had to take a deep calming breath, knowing I’ll be walking into a dozen questions.
“Hey, you got this kiddo!” Matt says grabbing and squeezing my hand lightly, before walking up and opening the front door.
-
As soon as I step foot into the kitchen, Nick is all over me.
“Oh my fuck, SLS/N! What the fuck happened?” He yelled, picking me up and sitting me in the island, then sprinting to the bathroom for a wash cloth.
“I beat a bitch up.” I say plainly, earning a laugh from Matt. Chris comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.
“Damn sis, you look tough!” He says ruffling my hair. I giggle.
“Christopher!” I hear Nick scold as he walks back in the room. Chris puts his hands up in mock defense.
Nick gently wipes most of the blood off my face, the gives me a sock filled with ice to put on my eye and nose, which were now purple.
“Okay, now spill. What the fuck happened?” Nick says. I look at Matt, who quickly stands from the couch and says,
“Actually Nick, come in here, I need to talk to you and Chris for a sec. Why don’t you go hop in the shower bud.” Mat says.
I give him a quiet okay and hop off the counter and head to the bathroom, taking my ice-sock with me.
-
Getting all that blood off my face and out of my hair felt so good, no matter how dark blue, green, and purple my nose was. I threw on a pair of sweats and one of Chris’s Fresh Love hoodies, before walking down stairs and to the living room.
Matt, Nick, and Chris were all sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch a show.
Matt motions me over to sit with him, so I grab a new sock of ice, a blanket from the basket and snuggle up with him.
“I think I could get used to this for the next three days.” I joke, snuggling close into Matt’s chest. He chuckles and rubs my back comfortably.
I slowly feel myself driving off, due to the long days events, but not before I hear my brother let out a soft,
“I love you kiddo.”
I hope this is what you were asking for! ❤️
#nick sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matthew sturniolo#Sturniolo sister
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Completely obsessed with dealer!rafe. 😍
Can we please have him take his angel on a shopping spree. Like he buys her anything she wants, from food to designer jewellery. Anything to see the smile on her face.
okay so i love this.
╰┈➤ shopping spree with dealer!rafe
warnings: a tad nsfw if you look closely.
summary: rafe treats his princess to anything she wants for the day.
the sound of silverware scraping against dishes filled the restaurant while y/n twirled the pasta around her fork. she huffed slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed. it didn’t.
“angel, don’t worry if you can’t finish it, if you’re full you’re full..” he soothed, reaching across the table to stroke her hand.
“but i feel bad, it’s super expensive!” she whined, guilt ridden. y/n always felt bad spending rafe’s money, despite him having too much for his own good. “shh, i told you today was all about you, i don’t care about the money..”
after a bit of back and forth, rafe settled the bill before leaving the restaurant.
“okay princess, where do you wanna go?” he asked, gesturing towards the open street, filled with stores.
her face twisted in thought, stroking her chin amusingly. “ooh! bookstore!” she squealed, throwing her hands in the air excitedly.
he wiped a hand over his face as he chuckled, grinning at her childlike behaviour.
“books? i’m offering to buy you anything you could possibly want, and you want books?” he laughed, exasperated.
she frowned slightly. “i mean, yeah! you just bought me new shelves, i need to fill them?” she spoke, as if he should’ve known. “okay, okay..whatever you want baby..”
interlocking her hand in his, she pulled him through the bustling crowds of people and turned down a little side street.
she beamed up at him as he grimaced at the tatty old store they’d stopped in front of.
“baby, i love you but why would you wanna get old books from here? you don’t want me to get you brand new ones?” he suggested,
“rafe..second hand books are so much better!” she whined, smacking his chest lightly. he held his hands up in defeat before ushering her inside.
he sat patiently in the corner as she browsed the shop, trailing her dainty hands along the worn spines.
“hey baby, i gotta make a few phone calls, i’ll come and get you when you’re done..” he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. she nodded, turning back to the books.
thirty minutes passed, and she had read countless blurbs and descriptions before rafe returned.
“hey princess you done?” he asked, smirking as he slipped something into his back pocket. “almost! can you give me a hand with these please?” she groaned, struggling to carry the stack of books to the cashier.
he rushed to her side, shifting the weight of the books from her arms to his, lifting them as if they were a pile of feathers.
she leant into his chest as he handed the cash over to the lady, thanking him in a whisper.
after visiting a few more shops, they decided on taking a stroll along the docks, rafe followed her footsteps, arms clad with bags.
they stopped at a bench outside the island club, enjoying the sunshine for a minute.
“hey princess?” he turned, brushing some hairs out of her face. she responded with a hum, leaning into his touch. “i got you something..” he grinned, reaching for his pocket.
“what? why? you already spent so much..” she gasped as her brows furrowed.
he pulled out a white, rectangular box, lifting the lid tentatively.
her hand clamped over her mouth as she stared at the accessory, glistening under the sun.
“rafe?” she uttered, almost breathless. a tight lipped smile crossed his face as he glanced between her and the chain.
“it’s a necklace princess, it has my name engraved on it, so i’ll always be close..” he muttered sheepishly, the passionate display of affection almost unnerving him.
he was so deeply enamoured by her, every single day. he couldn’t get enough of her, and he certainly couldn’t buy her enough jewellery to properly display how much he adored her.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#outer banks#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx#dom!rafe#rafecameron#rafe obx#dealer!rafe#soft!rafe cameron
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birthday blues
pairing: sirius black x f!reader
summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️)
wc: 5k
a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3
not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh
“What’s the store called again, sweets?”
even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic.
But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together.
You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous.
“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.
You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius.
He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson.
No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.
He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly.
Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself.
Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through.
So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth.
You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment.
But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.
You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss.
The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea.
Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between.
“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy.
He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically.
Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support.
He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”
Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.
“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”
Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.
He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies.
An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.
You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair. An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back.
This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly.
It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room.
Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back.
His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.
It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs.
Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest.
The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.
“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.
“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.”
After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.
As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”
You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day.
The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head.
It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland.
Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”
You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids. “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?”
You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard.
“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”
“How about you, love?”
Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.”
Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.”
Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”
You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see.
Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.
You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.
Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”
Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.
He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming.
Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”
The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal?
Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.
No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges.
A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay.
He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”
“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart.
It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only.
But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”
Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.
He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”
After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”
You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”
It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear.
You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.
“Have I told you I love you?”
A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”
“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily.
It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.”
And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.
#siriusblack#sirius black one shot#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black imagine#sirius black blurb#sirius black fluff#sirius black drabble#sirius black fic#sirius black x black!reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black x yn#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius x reader#marauders era#marauders fluff#dad!marauders#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp marauders#jily fic#sirius black
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UNCONVENTIONAL DATES
gn!reader | gojo, geto, yuta, nobara, itadori
“satoru gojo if you don’t get your ass to figuring out a puzzle i’ll kill you.”
your boyfriend stares at you from the velvet armchair, leg hanging over the side and cheek resting against his knuckles. “aw, baby, relax. we still have so much time.”
“i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to pick our date.” you huff and turn away from him.
it wasn’t that satoru couldn’t think of a good date idea. he’s brought you to countless places across the city—a roof to stargaze (he crossed his heart and hoped to die if he got you in trouble for it), a hole in the wall cafe with some of the best desserts you’ve ever tried, a vintage store that smelled of old books and sweet coffee, and had a fluffy balinese cat who would lay on its back and stare at customers, waiting to be pet.
but this time, in an escape room where he’s barely grazed the row of evidently suspicious paintings on the wall, and answered “hm, that’s a good question,” or something like it to three of your guesses, you wonder if you should signal the employees through the security cameras to let you, and only you, out of here.
“y’aren’t having fun?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, hard, hoping he could sense it even with your back turned to him. “i have to figure out some curse by a guy named frederick, alone. what do you think?”
and then you hear him stand up, hear the sound of him tapping, shuffling?—you’re not really sure, something, before coming closer.
his steps are slow, purposely louder than usual so that you can hear him travel all the way until he’s right behind you. then satoru, in typical satoru fashion, holds the key to the vault you’ve been trying to get into for five minutes in front of your face, before leaning over your shoulder with a grin. “how about now?”
“top 10 people i’d break up with my boyfriend for?” geto reads out the title of the slideshow before you can.
“hear me out.”
“you know i’m your boyfriend, right?”
“no way, really?” you ask in faux shock before giving him a look. “be quiet and listen, i’m presenting.”
“who you’d break up with me for?”
“number one.” you ignore him and switch slides. suguru doesn’t miss how your lips twitch, wanting to smile at your own cube slide transition you apparently took the time to apply.
“no one,” you say easily. “i love my boyfriend despite how annoying he is, and i would never ever think of breaking up with him. also, if he tried to break up with me, i’d throw up and cry to make him feel guilty and remember all the good times we’ve had and why he’s dating me in the first place.”
your boyfriend in question leans further back into the couch and lets his chin rest in his palm as he hums thoughtfully. “happy to know you’re willing to throw up and cry and beg, but—”
“i didn’t say beg.”
suguru says your name—quietly, smoothly, with an amused lilt at the end despite your slideshow and what he’s about to ask next. “you know i can see there’s 12 more slides, right?”
a beat passes.
he’s still watching you intently as you finally smile.
“of course. so for the real number one—”
“can you just fall over once so i can feel better about myself?” you huff with slightly bent knees, and fingers intertwined with yuta’s while he slowly skates in front of you despite, apparently, never having had the chance to try ice skating before this.
the sun keeps you warm despite the chill as a few other couples skate around the rink—some mirroring you, others faring better.
yuta blinks, and then he lifts his head just enough so you can see how the corner of his mouth twitches past his scarf. “would it really make you feel better?”
“i dunno, maybe. try eating some ice first.”
“okay.”
and before you can say anything, his hands leave yours as he falls onto the ice with an ‘oof!’
“yuta!” his name leaves your lips in panic. the sudden disappearance of support makes your legs wobble, and your skates dig into the ice before you make your way toward him.
your boyfriend groans, his cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or embarrassment, you’re not sure. you feel guilty for laughing a little when you speak, “i was joking, oh my god, are you okay?”
his hands move instinctively as he goes to push himself up, before he quickly realizes how cold ice is against bare skin. “yeah, ouch—ah, cold, cold! i know—i just thought i’d be better at fake falling.”
he winces as you awkwardly help him up, standing still as you give him a once over and rewrap his scarf around his neck. you joke softly, “you know what? seeing my boyfriend hurt himself didn’t make me feel better. sorry for asking.”
despite the slight ache in his tailbone, yuta manages to laugh. “you know what would make me feel better?”
“what?”
his face, already tinted red, flushes more as he realizes what he’s asked. but it’s too late now, and he probably deserves it—”...a kiss?”
an ad for a vintage market had popped up a few days ago, and nobara had excitedly agreed to go when you sent it to her. (she was slightly less excited at the thought of waking up early to get there first, but the competition, fashion, and “getting to buy rich people’s things” were enough to motivate her.)
you’re pulling at the sleeves of the coat you’ve found when she pops up beside you, flaunting a grin and pair of shades on her face. “do you think i look cool or super pretentious?”
you smile back. “depends on if you think i look cool or super pretentious.”
she taps her chin and hums before looking you up and down, exaggerating the head movement so you can tell despite not being able to really see her eyes.
“want me to spin?” you ask. but before she can even answer, you turn 180° and lift your arms, letting her soak it in. she watches as you walk around the stall, careful not to go too far so it didn’t seem like you were stealing.
“maybe if you were older and lived in a house with four cars or you were gojo, super pretentious.”
the mention of gojo makes you snicker. “...but?”
nobara’s smiling at you when you turn to face her with eyebrows raised. she lifts her hand to shoot you a thumbs up. “you’re not, so i say you look super cool.”
her face suddenly gets serious. “but seriously, what do you think about these shades? cool? pretentious? gojo?”
“what would you do if i said gojo?”
“break up with you.”
“i never took you as a cat person.”
“neither did i, i don’t think i am? but look how cute he is. his name is waffle,” itadori says without looking at you, focused on the fluffy grey cat in his arms.
waffle purrs and rubs his head against yuuji’s chin, who lets out a noise between a whimper and coo in response.
you huff. “coming here with you was a bad idea.”
he gasps. “don’t say that in front of waffle.”
“because now i want to adopt a cat,” you continue, laughing a little at yuuji’s tightened grip around waffle.
he makes a noise of agreement and pouts. “but if we didn’t come, we’d have never met waffle.”
“and porridge?”
“and russell.”
you snicker at the thought of russell—an orange cat in one of the other rooms who was one of those cats that really looked like he didn’t have a thought in his head. maybe because he was orange. “yeah, you know what, fair enough.”
yuuji decides to put waffle back in his kennel, but keeps playing by pulling the pipe cleaner tied to one of the cage bars up and down, getting him to jump up and grab it. “ahh, hi waffle, you’re so cute. i hope whoever adopts you is the best person ever.”
the sight of them playing makes you smile and pull out your phone. turning on your camera and pointing it toward yuuji who tilts his head and laughs, eyes lighting up as his new friend flops onto his back, you think it’s as good a time as any to get a new lockscreen.
surprise.! Get jujutsu kaisen'ed. i've never done this format i had no idea how to divide them so i just. used dividers. hm. i'll figure out if i like that or not later. no i didn't have anyone in mind for geto's slideshow. didn't know who wouldn't be... weird.
@danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x reader#geto x reader#yuuta x reader#nobara x reader#itadori x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gn reader#.. cant tell if theyre ooc. choosing to not think too hard about it. or at all. amen
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Told You So
part 6 of rivals
Jo gets her first start of the Victory Tour in her home state, and the team finally gets to meet her family.
2,832 words
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“Guess what I’ve got.”
I grinned as Hope tilted her head to the side. I tapped at my chest.
“Hope you brought all the good trash talk today, Solo. You’re not gonna stop anything I throw at you.”
“Yeah, whatever you say, Pip.”
I pouted at the nickname. I was sure that I would have grown out of it by now, but Hope had been adamant about making sure it stuck around.
“Jo!” I whirled around to look at Becky who did not look happy with me. “Stop taunting the goalies. Get to work!”
“But that’s no fun,” I whined, although I was already starting to move to the opposite side of the field to get ready with the rest of the forwards. “You don’t have to be so boring all the time.”
“If you don’t get your butt over there, I can really be boring for you,” Becky assured, “I’ll make sure you do all of your school work on our off day.”
I shook my head at that as I started to jog across the field.
“Always ruining my fun,” I grumbled knowing that the mic would pick it up. “I’m sixteen. I think I’m allowed a little fun, right?”
My eyes found the camera that was following me as I gave it a little shrug.
Once I reached the other forwards, Christen was quick to join my side. We didn’t initially say anything to each other as we warmed up. That was until Christen tried to nutmeg me, but I moved my heel just enough to keep the ball in front of me.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Tobin,” I said as I pointed at her.
Christen shook her head at that.
“You’re in a really good mood. Your exams go well?”
“I was exempt. All A’s.”
“That’s good. Get you into Stanford with those grades.”
“I know some others who would object to that.”
Christen rolled her eyes at that. I had been hearing everyone hype up their own college, but I ultimately hadn’t decided where I was going to go just yet.
“So, what does have you so happy?”
“We’re in Texas. This is my home game. Jill told me she’d start me since I saved up all my tickets for the year so my family can come.”
“You had to save up all of your tickets?” Alex asked behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to look at her before nodding.
“But that’s almost thirty tickets,” Christen pointed out.
I furrowed my brow in confusion. I hadn’t been shy about talking about how big my family was.
“I have twelve siblings. That’s why they couldn’t go to the World Cup. There’s just way too many of us.”
“You have twelve siblings?” Alex asked. I nodded. “Did your parents never hear of a condom?”
“To be fair, I was a complete accident,” I admitted. “Marley was born when my parents were nineteen. Five of my siblings were born back-to-back years.”
“You were an accident?”
“Yeah, no one told my parents how long they should have actually waited after my dad got a vasectomy. Nine months later and there I was.”
“They’re all coming?”
“Yeah! And my niece, Sky. I can’t wait for you guys to meet Sky. She loves the team.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “She watches all the games. I think she’s the only one who knows more about soccer than you just need to get the ball into the back of the net.”
“Well, then I can’t wait to meet her,” Christen said as she ruffled my hair.
I grinned at that before we were all called to huddle so we could start our drills.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you mean you aren’t coming?”
I ran a hand through my hair as I paced in front of the foot of my bed.
“I have an important interview scheduled, Jo,” Mom said causing me to scoff. “It could boost the book sales. And our family is expected to be there to support me. We’re supposed to be showing a united front.”
“Yeah, because nothing screams united like missing your youngest daughter’s victory tour. I don’t even know why I try to invite any of you. It isn’t like I’ve been asking the team to save all of my tickets for the games throughout the year to make sure everyone in the family could come.”
“You’ll have other games,” Dad cut in. I shook my head at that. They didn’t get it. They never did. “Us missing this game isn’t going to kill you.”
“When was the last game of mine you went to?” I asked. Both of my parents went silent. I couldn’t even remember myself. “You couldn’t come to the World Cup, which is the biggest stage I’ll ever play on. You didn’t come to my national team debut. Those I could somewhat understand because they weren’t in Texas. But this? This game is in Texas. It’s San Antonio. It’s only three hours and you’re telling me you won’t even make that trip to watch me?”
“We have more important things,” Dad said. I tried to blink away the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes. “We’re trying to think about the family.”
“How about for once in my life, you think about me? It’s always been the family. No one has ever been there for me. Not really!” I snapped. I let out a laugh of disbelief. “The only person who has even cared to learn anything about the sport I love so much is Sky! You couldn’t even name half of my national teammates. You’ve never cared about soccer past whether I was a good player or not. The only time you’ve had something to say to me was when I lost. It’s never when I win.
“I won the World Cup and I stayed silent when no one in this family besides Sky celebrated it because I knew that this game was going to happen. Silly me for believing that this family would actually show up to celebrate me for once! I had to watch as every single one of my teammates was able to celebrate with their family while I was left alone! You will never understand what that’s like!”
“You want to talk about never understanding?” Dad snapped back. “You could never understand that sacrifices that your mother and I have made for this family!”
“That’s your responsibility! You’re the ones who decided to have a family! It’s up to you to take care of us and make those sacrifices! I’m not the one who should be suffering just because I was the kid you never wanted!”
“We’ve never said we didn’t want you,” Mom defended. I didn’t fight the tears this time. “You and most of your siblings weren’t planned but we have always wanted all of you.”
“Do you?”
Both of my parents went silent at that. They had never shown true interest in what I was doing.
“You both have a funny way of showing it.”
Before either of them could respond I ended the call. I tossed my phone to the side, not caring where it ended up, before throwing myself on the bed. I curled into a ball as I grabbed a hold of a pillow. I let out the loudest scream I could muster up as I just let the tears fall from my eyes.
I didn’t even think too much about it when the pillow was pulled away from me and replaced with a person. I didn’t mind either even as someone else hugged me from behind as well.
“It’s okay,” Becky soothed as she rubbed my back. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Jo. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
It didn’t take much to deduce that the person who had pried me away from the pillow was Alyssa. Especially once she started to run her hand through my hair. And with the emotional toll talking to my parents had already taken on me, it wasn’t long before I was falling asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I blinked my eyes open before I wiped my face. I frowned as I glanced around at the room. I tried to get my bearings, but it just felt like I couldn’t get over how disoriented I currently was. I could have sworn that Becky and Alyssa were here, but there was no trace of them.
I reached over to grab ahold of my phone where it was sitting on the nightstand. I didn’t even remember picking it up after I had thrown it to the side. But then again, I wasn’t even sure what time it was.
8:17 pm.
Shit.
Dinner was nearly over. I scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. I turned on the sink and quickly washed at the tear tracks that were on my face. I couldn’t let any of my teammates know that I had been crying over something so insignificant. They had finally just started to look at me as if I was actually worthy of being on the team. I couldn’t let anything risk that.
Once I had decided that my face was cleaned off enough that I wouldn’t get any questions, I grabbed a hoodie that was sitting on the desk chair before pulling the hood up over my head. I didn’t even bother with the elevator. I was much more likely to run into some of my teammates that way. The stairs were much safer.
I made it through the doors of the mess hall that we had set up downstairs just before they stopped serving our meals. I was a bit surprised by how empty the room already was, I knew that most of the team liked to hang around and just chill with each other. But Becky and Alyssa were sitting at a table with each other with an extra plate.
Becky was the first one to spot me and waved me over to join them. As if I ever ate with anyone else.
“Feeling better?”
I froze at Becky’s question. So, I didn’t make up Becky and Alyssa being with me in the room.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I refused to look at either of them as I focused on my food.
“Jo,” Alyssa started as I tried to shovel my food in my mouth as fast as I could, “it’s okay to be upset about it.”
“Seriously, guys,” I said, once I swallowed the food in my mouth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“So, you don’t want to talk about a call with your parents made you cry enough that you eventually fell asleep?”
I pushed the plate of food away from me as my fork clattered against the table. I met Becky’s eyes as I clenched my jaw.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said after a moment of silence passed between the three of us. “I’m usually much better about making sure no one has to see that.”
I didn’t waste any time standing up. I knew that I could at least hide away with Rose and Sam. We had, after all, gotten close while at the U-20 World Cup a year ago.
“Jo.”
Alyssa tried to catch my hand, but I was quick to shuffle away from the two of them.
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
I didn’t give them any time to say anything else as I left the mess hall. I knew that I would regret not eating my dinner, but I really wasn’t in the mood to eat right now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So, you know that we love having you,” Sam started, causing me to raise my eyebrows at the taller player, “but Becky keeps asking us to make sure you’re fine. Like multiple times a day.”
I rolled my eyes at that. I had initially thought that Christen was just messing with me when she told me that I would never be able to escape Becky and Alyssa being my team moms now.
“Did something happen that we need to know about?” Rose added.
“Everything’s fine,” I assured. I had been so adamant about making sure that I wouldn’t be anywhere near Becky and Alyssa the past couple of days that I had even knocked out all of my homework for the entire trip. “Becky’s just dramatic. Really wish she’d learn that I don’t need a second mother.”
“Hey,” Rose said, drawing my eyes from my phone to her, “Becky’s just worried about you. It’s a little unfair for you to be upset with her when we all are.”
“Yeah, well, there’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Jo,” Sam softly said, “You’ve been avoiding Becky and Alyssa for the past two days. Something obviously happened. Becky seems really worried about you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Look, we’re not asking you what it’s about,” Rose said, as she grabbed my phone when I went to look at it again. “We’re just asking that you check in with Becky. Sam and I don’t mind you staying in our room, but we are getting tired of Becky constantly asking us how you’re doing.”
I sighed at that. I knew that it wasn’t Rose or Sam’s fault. It wasn’t even Becky or Alyssa’s fault.
“Yeah, sure,” I said. Becky at least deserved to know that I wasn’t mad at her. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. After the game.”
“Jo-”
“After the game,” I reaffirmed when Rose tried to say anything. “I just need to make sure that my head is in the game since I’m starting.”
Rose and Sam looked between each other before Rose nodded in agreement.
“But you have to talk to her.”
I nodded at that. It was a fair demand if I was going to still be here in their room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I grinned as I jumped up onto Sam’s back. The older woman grunted but she steadied herself.
“I’m not a horse, you know.”
“Come on, Sammy! I scored a hat-trick. Gotta keep these legs fresh.”
“Try an ice bath.”
I shivered at the thought.
“No thanks,” I said to Sam.
Sam huffed, but she didn’t fight to get me off her back.
“Saw that your family is here,” Rose spoke up. I nodded at that as my eyes found where my family was sitting in the stands. “You weren’t lying that it’s huge.”
“Did everyone think that I was?” I asked. Sam and Rose both nodded their heads causing me to huff. “No one ever believes me. Not even my friends at school. Am I really that hard to trust?”
Both Sam and Rose froze at that.
“Not hard to trust,” Becky assured me as she and Alyssa joined our little group. “But twelve siblings is a lot. Kind of hard to wrap your head around.”
I slid off of Sam’s back. I knew that I needed to talk to Becky and Alyssa without anyone else butting into our conversation.
“I can explain it all to you if you really need me to when we get back to the hotel.”
Rose and Sam both shook their heads at that before making their exit to greet the fans.
I looked at the two for a moment before rubbing at the back of my neck.
“I was never mad at either of you.”
“We know,” Becky said. She reached out to place a hand on my shoulder. “We were never upset with you. We just worry about you, Jo.”
“Yeah, and the whole running off didn’t help,” Alyssa added. Becky was quick to elbow the goalie’s side. Alyssa glared at Becky. “Hey! I’m just trying to tell her that she worried us more by running off then just talking.”
“I’ve never had anyone to talk to,” I admitted. Both of the older players looked at me. “I have twelve siblings and not a single one is that interested in soccer. Plus, Elvis and Mick are the closest to me in age and they can be assholes.”
“Siblings usually are,” Alyssa agreed. “But they’ll always be there for you.”
“I’m just not used to it,” I said. They two looked between each other causing me to motion to them. “People actively caring about me. I mean, they care. My family. I know they do, but there’s so many of us that things just don’t seem as impressive anymore.”
Becky reached out to pull me into a hug along with Alyssa.
“Well, you’ll always have us. Promise.”
I squeezed the two a bit tighter before Alyssa forced her way away from us.
“Okay, go spend some time with your family. After all, Becky didn’t convince them to come just for you to ignore them.”
I paused at that as I turned to Becky.
“Thank you.”
Becky nodded before pushing me away.
“You’ll have to bring Sky to the locker room with you,” Becky said with a grin. “Go enjoy the time with your family.”
I nodded before rushing off over to where my family was.
#uswnt imagine#woso imagine#leah williamson imagine#uswnt x reader#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#uswnt imagines#uswnt#woso imagines#woso#leah williamson imagines#leah williamson
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in which chilchuck tries to get some but ends up a sucker to his caretaker instinct once again
i just wanted to write something where chilchuck unironically indulges laios' hyperfixation, lol. im folding this into something larger but it kind of stands on its own for now, so here.
“Hey,” Chilchuck slurred. An arm crawled around Laios’ shoulder, stirring him from his reading. “What are you doing up? It’s my shift.”
“Just research,” Laios replied cheerily. His eyes were drawn back to the book and away from Chilchuck, something that elicited a soft huff of irritation. “I’ll still be good to take over for you. I’m kind of wound up, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”
“Yeah,” Chilchuck snickered, his hand brushing across Laios’ chest with just a bit too much pressure to be purely friendly. “I’ve been wound up, too.”
Laios met Chilchuck’s lascivious gaze with concern. “Are you starving yourself again? You wouldn’t have such bad insomnia if you ate well.”
“I got wine, there’s nutrients in that,” Chilchuck giggled, giving Laios’ tit a fond pat. Laios smelled the drink on his breath and the hair on his neck stood on end.
“On an empty stomach? Chil…”
“What you getting worked up for? I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.”
Laios’ brows furrowed. Chil stared up at him, waiting for him to back down, and the smug smirk only widened when he didn’t.
“You gonna force-feed me or something? I didn’t take you as into that kind of thing.”
“Knowing how depraved you are, you’d enjoy it if I did.”
Chilchuck scoffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re one to talk—”
Laios closed his book. “You’re being reckless,” he declared, in that know-it-all leader tone. Rarely used—Laios hated using it—but terse enough for Chilchuck to tilt his head and shut his mouth for a minute. Not long enough.
“Being a little tipsy doesn’t mean my eyes and ears don’t work,” Chilchuck groaned, pulling away and slumping onto the next step up from the one he was perched on. “It’s not my job to fight them anyway. All I gotta do is throw the bottle at your head and I’ve done my part.”
“I’m not talking about the party, Chil.”
Chilchuck shrunk away from Laios and crossed his arms.
“When did you become such a nag?” Chilchuck groaned. “I’m older than you. I know my limits.”
Laios turned from his seat on the floor, rising on his knees, invading Chilchuck’s space. He braced his arms on either side of Chilchuck’s lap.
“Do I have to say why?” Laios rumbled. “If you don’t want me to care, stop making passes at me.”
Chilchuck clucked his tongue. “Didn’t have to hit on you to get you to take a few quills to the back for my bony ass.”
“So much for never talking about that again.”
Chilchuck grinned. Laios’ eye twitched, knowing that Chil knew he’d taken the bait. Chilchuck reached up to cup Laios’ face; Laios let him, unfortunately.
“You can relax, big guy,” Chilchuck said, and the softness in his voice made Laios deflate all at once. “I got by just fine until you hired me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to believe you,” Laios murmured. Chilchuck could feel the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke, the weight of his heavy tallman skull in his palms. “I do. But you don’t know—"
“I’m fine,” Chilchuck asserted. “What’s got you so…?”
He stopped, bit his tongue. Laios looked up at him with those insufferable, upturned puppy dog eyes, deep amber in the low firelight, and he remembered. Chilchuck let out a long-suffering sigh, stroked up his cheek into Laios’ hair and scratched his scalp.
“We got this,” Chilchuck said. “It’ll be alright.” Laios slumped forward into Chilchuck’s lap, thick jaw slamming down onto his legs like a harpsichord lid, and Chilchuck squawked. Laios turned his face into the loose-fitting, threadbare slacks Chilchuck normally wore to bed, sucking in a long breath that made his back rise and then letting it all out through his nose. It reminded Chilchuck of Leed’s wargs after a good dinner, resting their big, wrinkly heads on any friendly knee and whining for attention.
Chilchuck scratched at his sideburns. He knew propositioning Laios would be risky in the dungeon, but this wasn’t the kind of disaster he’d envisioned if it went wrong. His hand came to rest on Laios’ back, and he rubbed it along the length of Laios’ spine. Laios’ broad body sunk that much further into his lap. Chilchuck’s calves were going numb, but he held deathly stll, as if he’d scare Laios off. As if he didn’t want to scare Laios off and get out of this mess.
“We’ll find Falin,” Chilchuck said. “We did it before, and we’ll do it again.” Neither of them believed it, really, but it was a nice thought. Maybe if they chanted it enough a spell would be cast. No mana sickness yet; they’d have to keep at it.
“I’m pretty confident about that,” said Laios, muffled in Chilchuck’s legs. His breath puffed warm on his thighs in short, controlled breaths. “But if we do and we don’t get her, if the Mad Mage takes care of us, then—it’s not just Falin, anymore.”
Chilchuck’s breath caught. His fingers curled in Laios’ shirt and tugged fitfully. Laios didn’t budge.
“She used to be all I had, you know.” Laios hugged Chilchuck’s pins-and-needles calves, which further trapped him but also returned some level of blood flow. Small blessings. Chilchuck wished he were dead. “That was fine. It was—better that way. Less to worry about. Then I found a nice girl, and I proposed—"
“Wait, what?”
“—she was so cute, so nice to me, but when my father said Falin would have to leave, I couldn’t just leave my little sister to rot somewhere, so—I broke it off. It didn’t matter, if I could earn enough money and Falin would be okay—”
Try faking a heart attack. You have the plausible deniability. “He… sent Falin away?” He was dimly aware of Marcille and Falin having met at magic school. “You were supporting her?”
“—but I didn’t even—need to. She was happy where she was. And I still—I still dragged her here, let her get eaten, let the Mad Mage take her. What kind of brother—”
Chilchuck gripped the back of Laios’ skull and pulled at his hair, not enough to move him, but enough to shut him up. He let go and ruffled it instead, soothing out the tension in his scalp. Laios melted, limbs melting to the stone tunnel floor.
“I see why you’ve been so wound up,” Chilchuck said. “You’ve just been sitting here and spiraling. Are you even reading that book?”
Laios squeezed Chilchuck’s legs to his chest. “Not really. I’m looking at the words but I’m not… retaining anything.”
That’s bad. “Let me see it.” Laios looked up at Chilchuck with confusion, then distrust. “Please?” That only confused Laios further, but he lifted the worn old tome from the floor for Chilchuck to take.
“Dragons of the Eastern Archipelago,” Chilchuck read out. “Another cookbook, eh?”
The jocular tone whiffed right past Laios’ ears. “It’s… not really research,” he admitted. Chilchuck thumbed through the pages—there were many detailed technical sketches of long-bodied, short-limbed dragons with horsehair and deer antlers, strange boggling eyes and stretched lips. More impressionistic doodles filled the margins, with scrawled-circle eyes and jagged teeth, little flared scratches of the broad side of a pencil representative of dragon fire. Their fat snake bodies had wobbly, uneven sides and sloppily looping scales—but some were a little more distinguishable as a dragon than others.
“Ah.” Chilchuck cleared his throat. “Nothing wrong with a little light reading, I guess.” He tried on a smile. “The, uh, pictures are nice.”
“I kept telling Falin that long don’t breathe fire,” Laios said, voice tight, “but she kept saying it would be cooler if they did.”
“That’s what they’re called? Longs? Seems kind of on-the-nose.”
That managed to get a laugh out of Laios, but it sounded more exasperated than anything. “It’s just one of the native words used for them, but it’s not Shuro’s language, apparently. The word he uses is ryu.”
“I haven’t seen anydragons other than red and green. Maybe it’s just the dungeons I’ve been to.” Chilchuck said. He winced, realizing he’d just stumbled over a lecture topic, but Laios stayed folded across his lap, seemingly having gotten comfortable there, and stayed quiet. The silence made Chilchuck’s hair bristle. Chilchuck nudged him, knuckles against Laios’ temple.
“C’mon, man, I set you up. Go on.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
“Seriously, Laios. I really want to know this time, and you’re gonna sulk about it?”
Laios turned up from his lap to read Chilchuck’s face, though he never seemed to be able to get it right all the other times he’d attempted it. Chilchuck heaved a melodramatic sigh and patted Laios’ head, an action that lowered his hackles. It really shouldn’t have worked that easily, but Laios closed his eyes and hummed.
“There are… so many kinds,” Laios said dreamily. Dread began to creep in on Chilchuck’s charitable mood, but he’d talked himself into a corner. “They’re super adaptable. Pretty much anywhere you have a dungeon or an ecosystem robust enough to support one, you can find a dragon.”
“I’ve, uh, heard about white dragons. Furry ones, kind of like these guys, but with wings and the stocky body type. Never seen one, though, so it could have been bullshit.”
“Oh, they’re real. Pretty common up north.”
“Do they really breathe ice? How does that work?”
“Basically, yeah. It’s super-cooled air. They have huge lungs and a fuel organ like a red dragon, but instead of burning the waste matter inside, it liquefies it into a kind of slurry—” Chilchuck grimaced, but Laios was already talking with his hands and not measuring Chilchuck’s enthusiasm. “—that undergoes a rapid chemical reaction when exposed to the air the dragon exhales.���
“Huh.” Chilchuck absently stroked the back of Laios’ neck. Laios squirmed, but didn’t complain. He slipped out of his kneeling position to sit flatter against the wall, head still flopped over Chilchuck’s lap but looking outward toward the fire. The angle looked uncomfortable, so Chilchuck dropped a step lower, letting Laios slide over just a bit more, lay more solidly in Chilchuck’s lap. Laios’ ears had turned red. “Y’know, I always just figured magic did it. I never knew any of the biology until I met you.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking that way,” Laios half-shrugged. “They wouldn’t exist without some kind of mana source, so they’re still a product of magic. But to sustain the kind of huge, complex bodies dragons have on mana alone would starve the ecosystem, so they have to develop organs and bones to keep them upright and moving to serve their purpose.”
“To destroy whatever enters their lair?”
“To survive.”
“Same as the rest of us, then.”
Laios hummed. Chilchuck’s wrists had begun to hurt from holding the book, so he propped it up on the crown of Laios’ skull. He didn’t seem to mind.
“So what’s this big pearl they keep drawing the long dragon with?” Chilchuck asked, even though the answer was right beneath it, indicated helpfully in a list of figures.
“Oh, that’s an egg, believe it or not.”
“No kidding.”
“Dragon clutches start out pretty big, but because of how demanding the hatchlings are, most of them don’t survive to adulthood. Some species of dragon choose a ‘favorite’ out of their eggs to focus on and raise instead…”
Chilchuck smiled into the palm of his hand as Laios rambled, flipping through the book to keep his eyes open as Laios talked, listening as the spaces between words grew and his tangents unspooled, dissolving into dreamlike nonsense. The weight of Laios’ head got heavier in Chilchuck’s lap until the static crept back in, but Chilchuck had no intention of moving him anymore. It was well past the scheduled watch shift change by the time Laios began to softly snore, but Chilchuck didn’t rouse him.
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